


Petrichor & Coffee Beans

by Constantine_You_Owe_Me



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Author Bard, Bard writes the books, Cafe AU, I am so sorry, I have always wanted to do a Cafe AU, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, M/M, Modern AU, Moping Bard, Possessed characters, Possession, Possible slow burn but hey what do I know, Romance, These boys can fit so much sad in them, depressed thranduil, it gets sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-06-12 23:03:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 27,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15350688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Constantine_You_Owe_Me/pseuds/Constantine_You_Owe_Me
Summary: Middle Earth is in the modern era now, technology abounds and humans have taken over every inch of the world Thranduil once knew.Left grieving from the loss of his home and his kin he tries to move with the times and opens a coffee shop for those that wish to be left alone and away from the hustle and bustle of the outside world.Could a familiar face be what the elf king needs?Maybe it is too much for him.Old faces resurface and old enemies too.An offer is placed on the table and Thranduil must decide if he can accept it or if he can truly live in a world that believes his kind are merely fairy tale.





	1. Moving On

**Author's Note:**

> This story idea has been on my mind for such a long time, months I tell thee!!! 
> 
> I am unbeta'd so... if any of you would like to offer your services I would greatly appreciate it.

##  **Chapter** **One**

_The landscape had changed right before his very eyes, what had taken a thousand years to grow and change to him was the blink of an eye. Woodland turned to grasslands, grasslands to desert- When the wastelands stretched further across the once green land he had known and loved, humans came and built on the emptiness that had once been his home._

_Water ways were built, roads too, and buildings as tall as the tallest trees of Mirkwood. These towering and intimidating structures held no light, they held bodies, aching with sadness and pain- they toiled daily with rough hands, slogging through dirty streets and choking on the smoke, smothered by the world they had built themselves._

_The longer he remained alive, the less he recognised of the world and so he wandered, he travelled in search of great forests and safe havens for those like himself._

_Each time he found something vaguely reminiscent of home he settled, but just as the world had changed in one place, it did so in another and another- the forest dwindled and the human population grew._

_Where once he would find his kind in abundance there were none and when, finally, he rested wearily in one spot he knew he was alone in the world, the last one to survive the clogging and contagious silt that settled over Middle Earth._

_Thranduil, the great Elk King of the greenwood was the last of the elven blood._


	2. Standing Still

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One of your everyday scenarios in the cafe.

##  Chapter Two

 

 

He set down the coffee cup on the counter, someone slid over a note to pay, he didn’t bother looking up and handed them their change after a few moments.

 

Thranduil did not oft speak to his customers at the coffee shop, there was no real point in making connections with mortals, however negative it may seem and how bad a light it may leave him in, it did not matter to him.

 

The coffee shop was money, it was something to keep him on his feet, to keep him busy and to keep his mind from wandering into territory that could render him paralysed with grief at all that was lost to him.

 

The regulars knew it was best to keep their conversations at a minimum and at times the blond would gift them with a free drink as a comment of silent gratitude. It was the most he could do when on some days’ words would not come forth, even a simple ‘hello’ seemed painful to utter.

 

The café was small, tidy and decorated as though the patron had wandered into a forest, greens, creams and accents of gold, the tables dark stained wood and wrought iron- it exuded warmth and wonder to those seeking a quiet nook to read and be alone with their thoughts.

 

The chattier of the patrons were those that grabbed a drink to go, it was almost as though a magic lingered in the air keeping those that wished for the quiet stilled and calm in their seats while those wild with life, and fire in their souls came and left in almost a single breath.

 

With a sigh he hushed the plant beside him on the counter as it whispered to him, animals still spoke with him too, but there were times the whispers were as though the poison of the world had seeped deep within their roots and into their blood and the words were entrenched in horror.

 

It sent a shiver down his spine and he tiredly rubbed his face before making the decision to move the plant to the window to bask in the light far enough away from him that he could no longer hear it spouting bile in his own language.

 

It was one of those day wherein everything he did had him exhausted, just the very act of existing had him bone tired, rolling his shoulders and stretching his back he groaned and moved from behind the counter and went to collect cups and plates, no one paid him any mind he was grateful.

 

Juggling cups, he moved around the tables navigating a course while ensuring the porcelain in his hands did not fall, as he neared the counter he turned he caught sight of a familiar face entering the café with a bright smile, the only employee Thranduil had hired for the café.

 

Laurel waved to him before she disappeared into the back to divest herself of her coat and bag and grab an apron.

 

When she reappeared she was concerned, approaching Thranduil she tilted her head to the side and took in his tired appearance.

 

“I wonder if you should be here today…” Laurel spoke slowly, each word had been tactfully chosen as to not sound as though she was making any kind of order of him, he was never appreciative of anyone telling him what to do, and so she developed a system that had her speak thoughts aloud until the blond came to a decision on his own, though she heavily influenced him at every opportunity.

 

More for his health than anything else, it seemed, at times, that Laurel may have been all he had in the world and they weren’t even close.

 

She often wondered that if Thranduil didn’t have the café would he have drifted through life like a spectre, merely a vision people would gawk at but never truly moving to try and touch the soul within.

 

It was a sad thought, and deep down she knew he was not alright. Ever since she’d known him he had not been himself- no one looked like that and stood that tall and proud and yet held such a melancholy demeanour.

 

Thranduil only offer a ‘hmm’ in reply, he didn’t meet her gaze as he refilled the napkin dispenser- he would rather take great care in such a menial task than offer any sort of honesty to her about his state of mind that day.

 

“I’ll serve today. Pretty sure the paperwork is stacking up in the office, aaaand I am pretty sure the purchase order for last month is still on your desk, and well, I am pretty sure you have accounting to do too… you know, if you wanna run the café and keep it open.” After this series of ‘hints’ Laurel loped off toward the counter, narrowly missing a glare from the blond, the heat behind not a blazing fire but enough ire to have her regret her words if she continued.

 

Thranduil stalked after her as best he could while he still held cups and saucers, setting them down he opened his mouth to argue but found no words waiting on his tongue, today communication was lack lustre and a struggle at best.

 

With a huff, Thranduil resigned himself to the fact he did actually have paperwork to do and without a single word exchanged with his employee moved off to the back office to sit and do the numbers, he would likely sulk for a while to ease his mood.

 

Watching retreating back Laurel only shook her head, grabbing the dirty cups and whatnot she slung them into the dishwasher closing the door with her hip, all the while moving the plant, that had already suffered a move that day, back to its original spot on the counter.

 

If Laurel had such powers to understand plants she would have heard it give a whispered whoop of victory.

 

But she didn’t and she was safe from what came forth afterwards, as it murmured of unnatural terrors, her fear non-existent safe from the joy dripping from its words.  

 

Once in the back office the elf slumped in to the office chair, he wondered if the words had not come from sheer need to keep his pride intact, within him he still held a shred of his former composure, still he remembered how he had been a proud and observant king, only speaking when absolutely necessary and oh, how he could cut a man down with his dagger like tongue…

 

Forcing such memories aside he dragged the paperwork toward him and picked up his pen, there were more pressing matters to attend to.

 

After an hour alone nothing had been done.

 

Desperately, he ran a hand through his still impressive white gold hair, aching hands ready to grip the strand and tear them out from the root… no, no, this was no good, those thoughts could not control him, he wouldn’t let them.

 

Show no weakness.

 

Throwing the pen down he stormed out of the office, grabbing his long olive green coat as he did so, and left the café in a blur of blond and green, no word to Laurel on where he was going or if he would be returning.

 

Laurel raised her hands in submission as he left.

 

Was it too much to ask that he at least gave her some acknowledgement, she put up with a lot from him and she never complained, at least not out loud.

 

Still, at least he was out of work now, his tense mood left the café feeling sour and there was no way for her to bring that up with him unless she wanted to get the boot… which she did not.

 

At least she could moan over wine later that night.

 

Some consolation after all.

 

When she saw Thranduil sweep past the window and down the street she heaved a sigh, what was it with beautiful melancholy men suffering silently in her life, if it wasn’t Thranduil it was the despondent guy in her life, he seemed empty too, like he’d lived too long and had nothing to show for it.

 

Maybe they ought to meet?


	3. Taking Flight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bard and Laurel have an evening of wine and favour asking. It leads to a frantic conversation and some revelations that Bard will lose sleep over.

#  Chapter Three

 

 

Bard tapped his pen against the desk he sat at, his home study quiet as it usually was, something was bothering him- one of those moments wherein everything seemed fine but he felt restless and unsatisfied with his day.

 

Dropping the pen, he got to his feet and paced the length of the small study hoping some motion might coax his thoughts to move from their stagnant state of rest.

 

A whole day had gone by and he’d not written a single thing for his latest book, his editor had called earlier and the brunet had feigned productivity but in actual fact he had been watching trash TV all day drinking coffee and catching up on the news via his phone- he had done no such work.

 

Writing romance novels was pretty difficult if the author hadn’t had any semblance of a relationship or intimacy for a while, he wasn’t good at relationships any more. What was the point of falling in love with someone who would age and die right before your very eyes, while you stayed the same, unchanging and half mad with grief at seeing yet another person you adore wither away and you are unable to do a single thing about it?

 

Bard sighed as his thoughts began to run into darker territory, though, thankfully he was granted a reprieve when someone rang the doorbell and then, a moment later, impatiently knocked several times until he called out for them to be quiet.

 

“Laurel I know that is you, calm down, I’m coming, I’m coming.” Bard hurried out of the study and down the hall to the door, pulling it open the redhead known as Laurel bounced in with a wide grin set on her face.

 

She babbled incoherently for a short while as she removed her jacket and dumped her bag at the door, as she toed off her shoes she stopped speaking realising Bard was not following her at all.

 

“Was I speaking too fast again?” Her broad Scottish accent could be indecipherable at times, though no one ever said it was a bad thing, and Laurel, for the most part, found it amusing that some could not make out her words no matter how slow she spoke.

 

“So… you’ve heard me grouse about my boss before, he’s a mystery wrapped in an enigma- Bard, I don’t really know what that means but it seems the right way to describe him from how I’ve heard people use that saying in a sentence before….

 

Aaaaanyway, I’m not here to grouse, per se, a wee favour would be more in line with what I am proposing.” Her face had a sweet smile set into now and it made the author nervous, favours were all well and good but with Laurel it was likely something odd, not fight a dragon odd, but odd enough for him to have to sit and think on it for a while.

 

Instead of saying a word he jerked his head in the direction of the kitchen as if to gesture for Laurel to head in there, she took the hint and the both moved away from the front door and into a cosy looking kitchen.

 

It was obvious that only one person resided within the apartment, there were only one or two mugs in the cupboard, a plate or two… the food situation was a little pathetic too, bare cupboards, and the fridge held a half drunk bottle of wine, a wedge of stupidly expensive cheese and some eggs.

 

Bard would argue that he ate out more than he cooked at home, should anyone have questioned him but it wasn’t true, not if they noticed the pizza box on the kitchen counter.

 

Laurel installed herself in the big arm chair by the window, she ignored the kitchen table and chose comfort over anything else. The apartment was tiny and the kitchen and living room merged into one room, there was a bathroom and a bedroom and miraculously the study but it seemed more like a storage closet because it was so damned small.

“So, this favour you have to ask of me, does it require me to wear pants and leave the house?” Bard attempted humour as he pulled the half-drunk bottle of wine from the fridge and poured himself and Laurel a generous amount into two mugs. He didn’t own wine glasses because he didn’t often have company, only Laurel and she didn’t care what she drank alcohol out of.

 

“Well, yes, obviously. It is a favour; they aren’t easy things it is why the person requesting the favours owes the doer of the favour something in return.” The redhead rolled her eyes at Bard as she reached out to take the wine from him, she took a deep drink before bringing up the favour again.

 

“Look, you’re not going to be happy about it but I am going to ask you anyway, because you’re a sad and pathetic loser at the moment and you need to get a life.”

 

“Harsh, but true. My dread senses are tingling, Laurel. Are you trying to set me up with some unsuspecting lady who thinks a writer is smart and witty, when in actual fact I’m a human disaster that writes smutty romance novels for money…?” Once again he went for humour to hide the fact he felt absolutely nothing all day and every day, he felt dread, terror, and all those other emotions but it was faint and the numbness he carried inside himself was doing a great job of letting him live relatively pain free, he just had to get his brain in on this plan and he could drift through life until the universe deemed it necessary for him to die.

 

“I am trying to set you up, but, and it occurs to me I’ve never asked your orientation… it isn’t a lady. There is nothing feminine about him, though, he has long hair but that isn’t necessarily something that identifies one as female.” Laurel took another large swig of wine avoiding Bard’s gaze, almost steeling herself for a stern refusal but what she was met with when she looked back to him was curiosity.

 

“Alright, what’s he like?” The Scot near choked on air at his words, her expression ran through a myriad of emotions before settling on acceptance, she just nodded leaving them both in silence for a moment, she wasn’t sure what to say now, she had expected this to be harder than it was.

 

“Well… uh… he’s beautiful, a bit gloomy but so are you, which is why I thought it would be a good fit, although may be it wouldn’t work out, what if you both just sat for the entire date in silence because you’re both ridiculously socially awkward?” It was a joke but it didn’t come across well enough and Bard just felt a little cold.

 

“I’m sorry, that was a wee bit insensitive of me. The request still stands if you’re willing?”

 

“So it is a request now and not a favour?” The atmosphere relaxed a little, Bard ensured it did, there wasn’t enough wine left for them to get drunk and forget about it that way. Maybe he was just getting touchy in his old age.

 

“Still a favour, but- I haven’t asked him about this yet. I know, I know I need to really confirm this with him but he’d just say no!” Laurel exclaimed desperately, she sat up in her seat and gave Bard an imploring look which was diluted somewhat but the fact she took another sip of her wine as she did so.

 

“If he is going to say no you have to respect that.” Bard shot back, he set his empty mug down on the coffee table- he really wished there was more wine now, maybe they could go out to a bar, at least then they wouldn’t be talking about personal stuff like they were now.

 

“Look, Thran- he hates it when I shorten his name, Thranduil is difficult to deal with, he has been the same since the first day I met him- oh, hey Bard you look pale are you ok?” Laurel set her mug down quickly and moved forward to Bard and out of her seat as she saw all the colour drain out of the writer’s face, she wondered if the wine hadn’t agreed with him.

 

They both nearly toppled over as Bard jumped to his feet and grabbed Laurel by the front of her shirt, he looked desperate and wild, eyes wide and frantic and his friend grew more concerned by the minute, she’d never seem him so… lively?

 

Laurel, listen to me very carefully, I need you to answer this as best you can.” Laurel could only nod, anything she wanted to say died on her tongue at the look in her friend’s eyes. It looked like hope an emotion she hadn’t really experienced before regarding Bard, it was strange to see something like that still lived within someone who had looked tired since the day they’d met.

 

“You said his name was Thranduil, and that he had long hair, I… Gods, Laurel. I need to know that you are talking about a man called Thranduil who looks like he is made out of moonlight and talks with the heaviness of a man that has suffered war too many times.

 

Fuck, I’ve never heard of anyone else in this universe being called Thranduil- tell me he looks so unique that you honestly aren’t sure he is even human.” His breathing sounded harsh and somewhere in the back of his mind he was berating himself for sounding so ridiculous when his mind wandered back to memories of the elf.

 

Thranduil couldn’t still be alive, could he?

 

“Hey, hey calm down, Bard. I’ve never seen you like this, sit down and let’s just talk about this calmly.”

 

“Ahahaha, Laurel, just answer my questions!” She threw her arms up as if to submit and she took a step back from her friend, she ran a hand through her hair trying to find words for the answers that were being demanded of her.

 

“…He does look like he belongs in a museum, he’s gorgeous, honestly I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more beautiful man in my life. He had long blond hair and crazy bright eyes, he’s really snippy too.” The redhead groused but she smiled when Bard let out a relieved laugh but it was coloured with something else… pain.

 

He felt true pain for the first time in years and while he laughed tears pricked at his eyes, that someone so ethereal and worthy of peace still walked the land was an awful joke. Was he shackled to the Earth just as Bard was?

 

How cruel of a world they lived in.

 

“Take me to him, please, Laurel. You have to take me to him now.” Bard wasn’t sure what he would gain from seeing this person, if it wasn’t the Thranduil he knew it could be a relative, one of his children’s children, but all the same he needed to know.

 

“I don’t know where he lives but I can take you to his café tomorrow, when I start my shift I will come grab you and we can go together. For now, I am going to head home and you should go to bed, you look like you need a rest.” With that she slipped past him, a comforting hand on his shoulder for a moment, and into the hall to put on her shoes and jacket.

 

Bard padded after her and stopped her at the front door just before tried to leave.

 

“I’m sorry if I worried you a little, it’s just that if this is really who I think it is… We have a history and I don’t know how happy he will be to see me.”

 

Laurel gave Bard a reassuring smile after he admitted his worry, she shouldered her back and pat his shoulder.

 

“I think he’ll be shocked, if it is him, but he looks like he could use the company of an old friend. I think you need it too.”

 

Bard let her go, he stood in the hallway alone for a long moment before he turned away and headed to bed.

 

If he could sleep he knew what he would dream of.


	4. Closing in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Worlds finally collide and things get just a tad steam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not have a beta to check before I post so if things don't make sense I am sorry.

#  Chapter Four

 

Friday mornings were not all they were slated to be, Thranduil thought as he unlocked the door to the café and slipped inside. It was still dark outside and he had to navigate his way through a labyrinth of tables to get to the other side of the room where the light switches were.

 

Whoever had set this place up clearly didn’t like leaving through the front door.

 

He ignored the plant whispering to him, the atrocities it murmured left him on edge but Thranduil couldn’t let himself toss the plant out, it was sad really, this corrupted thing was only still in the café because it spoke his language.

 

On good days it would speak of lighter things and had the potential to cheer the elk king up to a degree, they would whisper about the woodland that had once covered the lands and the beasts that had roamed freely.

 

On bad days the blond wanted to pour boiling water over it.

 

Flipping the lights on revealed the café before him, tidy and still… He wasn’t looking forward to the day ahead, not because anything was planned. The constant in his life of coming to the café and opening up and serving customers was calming but there were days when he would have been happy with the routine but without having to see anyone.

 

He spent the hour before the café opened rearranging the seats, filling the machines up, and avoiding the plant that he had, once again, moved to the window behind him. Once he was satisfied everything was perfect he flipped the signed from closed to open on the door and grabbed an apron awaiting his first customer.

 

It wasn’t long before early morning commuters filled the place requesting coffee to go with rasping and mumbling voices, these people were the ones that worked in menial jobs, they worked in the jobs others refused, cleaners, servicemen and women that emptied trash, mopped muddy floors, took orders from someone else every day and yet were invisible in their workplace.

 

They were kind, and polite and Thranduil always took great care when making their drinks, always offering free refills throughout the day should they need them, this was his atonement, to offer those who may be more in need of something than he… as a king he would always provide for his kind but it was different, it was expected and he had lived an easier life than most for a long time.

 

It was alright to give back. Even in this small way.

 

The blond lived a far simpler life now, he lived on the outskirts of town, a small two story terraced house, two bedrooms a small garden at the back, the pristine lawn long gone, replaced with a fruit and vegetable garden which he tended to in his spare time.

 

Other than that he had nothing, or rather, he did nothing, his spare time was spent reading and working in the garden, the earth on his hands felt good and watching something grow was soothing, and when the young plants spoke to him he felt as though he was home again but it never lasted long.

 

After the morning rush the place quieted down, and the regulars came to spend their time reading in seclusion cozied up in a nook drinking tea or coffee, they sought out peace and Thranduil was able to offer them some of that.

 

There wasn’t much to do once they had settled down so the elf would be left with his thoughts as he cleaned up around them, putting cups into the dishwasher, refiling the machines and ensuring there was enough milk left in the decanters for the next rush in the afternoon.

As he idly polished the counter top Laurel bounded in letting a gust of cold air follow her ruffling the newspapers set in the stand by him, he looked up and gave her a disapproving expression before returning to his polishing, it wasn’t until a few moments later that she hadn’t moved from her spot in front of him.

 

“You’re early.” Was all he said still not looking at her, she gave a sigh in reply and walked off she returned after a moment and cleared her throat.

 

Clearly he was not going to get his peace when she was around, his wish for the least human contact he could manage was slowly becoming a distant dream, and with an annoyed huff he set down the cloth and looked up at her with, what he hoped, was still an intimidating glare.

 

Only, she wasn’t alone, Laurel never brought anyone to the café and yet… someone stood silently at her side light brown eyes wide with shock as they gazed back at him as though they were seeing something no one else was… their brunet hair glossy, and pulled back off their face, though an errant curl or two frame their face.

 

It couldn’t be…

 

“Morning, Thran, this is my friend Bard.” Laurel’s voice seemed faint to his ears, as though she spoke to him from another room, his stomach twisted and he could find no words to speak, his mind was screaming several hundred questions that he wanted to vocalise and yet he was silent.

 

“I brought him here because he said he might know you.” Again her voice seemed faint but now also tinged with concern, Thranduil had frozen in place never taking his eyes from her friend, she wanted to do something to break the silence further but before she could Bard had scrambled around the counter to Thranduil’s side and thrown his arms around him.

 

To her surprise the blond wrapped his arms around the other and the embrace was returned with the same fervour- a small gasp escaped him as he pulled himself tighter against the other.

 

After a long moment they parted, both glassy eyed, Laurel soundlessly stepped away to discard herself of her jacket and out on an apron, she could hold down the fort if she needed to after all it seemed they did know each other but how well?  

 

Back behind the counter Bard apologised moving so there was space between them again, he looked the elf up and down and just shook his head.

 

“You look great, still.” His laugh was breathless as ran a hand through his hair nervously, the loose tie come apart and his hair as he did so and the bargeman laughed again, he wasn’t sure what to say to the other now he had seen him.

 

Thranduil took his hand and pulled him from the café, as he did so Laurel called after them saying she was happy to do a longer shift, not that he heard her.

Once outside they walked side by side on the cold wet streets of the town, it wasn’t until they were far enough away from the café did the blond feel comfortable enough to start any kind of conversation. It wasn’t as though he didn’t trust Laurel not to eavesdrop but what good would it be if she heard them speak of memories from thousands of years past?

 

They wandered until they found the city park, it was empty of people and the allure of trees drew them in and so they stepped inside and continued their silent walk before Thranduil finally spoke.

 

“Of all the people from my past… I can hardly find surprise in me that it would be you that has survived and yet I am at a loss on how you have outlived my kin.” He glanced to his side where Bard was watching his feet as he walked, he gave looked pained, but when he looked up to Thranduil it was gone and he gave a shrug.

 

“I don’t know why I am still here, my lord- uh, Thranduil.” He blushed when Thranduil gave a quiet huffing laugh at the other’s slip up, it was nice to have that kind of familiarity even if it did also give him a hurt he could still not escape after all this time.

 

“We are both lucky that you are.”

 

“You truly believe that or are you just still surprised I am here?”

 

“Both, as I said before, of all the people to survive thousands of years, it would of course be you. It pleases me because you were a friend to me when we were both kings, I trusted you and I hope that you trusted me.” He took a deep breath before he spoke again, before he admitted something he had held within his heart for a long time, something that had burrowed deep and had not died.

 

“I was in love with you. I was so in love with you and terrified that if I admitted that out loud to you or anyone else it would show weakness; I still am terrified to tell you that…” Thranduil offered a nervous laugh as he lifted a shaking hand to show Bard.

 

 The bargeman looked stunned.

 

“Your astonished expression gives away that you had no idea.”

 

Bard could only shake his head for a moment, he finally found his words and tried to hide a delighted smile but failed to do such, he took Thranduil’s still shaking hand and gave it a squeeze.

 

“I didn’t think someone as powerful and as beautiful as you would ever see something in me that was worth loving.” The truth was never sugar coated, it was impossible to do such without lying, but even Bard found his own words hurtful, Thranduil didn’t flinch at the words, instead he stopped walking and pulled Bard closer to him.

 

He pulled him right in until Bard’s chest bumped his.

 

“What is there about you that cannot be loved, Bard? I know you better than anyone else in this world knows you, I know your fears, I know your strengths and your weaknesses- I know what lies beneath those clothes, I know what kind of heart beats in your chest.” Thranduil whispered hotly in Bard’s ear, the blond took a risk and pressed a kiss to the soft skin of the other’s neck just below his ear and was rewarded with a pleasant shudder.

 

When he stepped back Bard’s expression was still that of a stunned man, though his cheeks were now flushed pink.

 

Thranduil was right, out of the billions of people that lived in this world he was the only one that knew who he truly was, Thranduil knew everything about him to a degree. From the moment he was crowned Thranduil had been there as silent support, though there had been many times they had met to discuss trade and the conversation had dissolved into wine and mindless chatter, they had been friends for years and yet Bard had no idea Thranduil had been in love with him for any of that time.

 

“You said ‘was’, that would insinuate that you no longer loved me.” There was the hint of a smile in Bard’s voice, he pulled Thranduil further into the park somewhere secluded, the trees covered them from anyone wandering now, and he only stopped when his back met with the thick trunk of a pine.

 

“You think I press kisses to the neck of just any man?” The elf responded dryly, he trapped Bard between himself and the tree so that the bargeman was unable to move from resting against the tree even if he wanted to move, he was now stuck, one of Thranduil’s legs was wedged between his.

 

They stayed like that for a moment, eyes locked- it was an intense gaze and neither wanted to look away but something had to happen, it didn’t make sense for them to be locked this way and for nothing to change between them, not when the line had already been crossed…

 

“So, are you going to just keep me like this or do you have a plan?” Bard asked quietly, he berated himself mentally for how rough his voice had sounded so quickly, he was expecting too much too soon and it startled him how much he wanted Thranduil in that moment.

 

Was this something he had wanted since they first met? When Thranduil had rode into the courtyard on the giant elk looking like a God had manifest into a man before his very eyes. He remembered that moment so clearly even now, those hours spent in the elven king’s tent before the battle drinking wine while he gave Gandalf a decidedly reserved tongue lashing essentially disregarding the old man’s words, it had been impressive and Bard had felt drawn to him- yes he had found the blond attractive, ridiculously so but who could blame him?

 

“I hope I do not sound rude when I say this but usually when I have someone pinned down like this they don’t have a faraway look in their eyes as though they wished to be anywhere but here.” Thranduil’s deep smooth voice brought him back to the present and he laughed leaning up so that his nose bumped Thranduil’s, it was a tender moment until the elf shifted and pressed their lips together in a searing kiss.

Bard moaned and for a moment struggled to pull away from sheer embarrassment, but Thranduil had snaked an arm around to rest on his back and pulled him in so that the near entire length of their bodies touched.

 

The kiss ended when they both pulled away for air, Thranduil looked smug and Bard wanted to do something for him to lose the expression but his mind was elsewhere and very suddenly when he felt something pressing between his legs.

 

It was Thranduil’s knee, the friction was unexpected but also very welcome and he tried to suck in air as quietly as he could to keep his breathlessness to a minimum, he didn’t need to give Thranduil any more fuel than he already had. He was too late, of course, Thranduil had already seen the look of unrestrained lust on Bard’s face and was closing in again to press wickedly hot kisses to his neck and collar bones.

 

“Why… don’t we… hey- wait… Thranduil, please… why don’t we head to my place?” Words failed him as Thranduil continued to tease and soothe Bard’s sensitive skin with nips and kisses, but at the mention of a more private setting he pulled away leaving Bard cold from the lack of an extra body so suddenly.

 

He tried not to look disappointed.

 

“Lead the way.”


	5. Stumbling Block

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are discovered about both, and a trip to the past leaves the weight of memories hanging heavy around both Bard and Thranduil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I would like to state that I have no Beta. This chapter is almost double the length of the others and I got carried away with Thranduil talking because I love him and he does what he likes.

#  Chapter Five

 

The walk back to Bard’s apartment was a blur, he didn’t remember his feet leading him to the door. He did, however, remember fumbling with his keys to unlock the door while Thranduil took the opportunity to slide his hands up under the shirt Bard wore. A snickering laugh in the other’s ear when Bard tensed up for a moment dropping his keys at his feet while he tried to compose himself somewhat.

 

“Dammit, Thran, give me just… just five minutes to get us inside then you can do whatever you want.”

 

“Oh, you should not promise such things to a man like me, remember who I once was, are you sure I am not still that man?” This time Bard could hear the need in the blond’s voice and he felt a thrill race through him that he was the source of that heat.

 

With more fumbling he manages to unlock the door and drag the other in with him before any neighbours spotted him with the tall blond and decided to ask questions, they all knew he was a romance novelist and seeing someone all over him the way Thranduil was… it would add fuel to any rumours they already had on him.

 

“It comes as quite a surprise to see you behave like this- ohh…” Bard’s voice trailed off into nothing as Thranduil pushed off Bard’s jacket and tore open his shirt, it was passionate and desperate and that was what they needed, conversation would come second.

 

Feeling in a daze the brunet moved to remove Thran’s coat, he tried as carefully as he could to lay it over the back of one of the chairs nearby as to not crease it but it didn’t seem like the blond cared.

 

“Unless you wish to be dragged down on to a sofa for this, you may wish to direct us to a bedroom?” Right, a bedroom, that would be a good idea- he still couldn’t believe this was happening and how fast it was.

 

Leading Thran down the hall he was jolted to a stop as the elven king came to a standstill. Turning to ask what the hold-up was his line of vision showed the door to his study was open revealing the ridiculous posters of his romance novel covers.

 

With a nervous laugh he moved to close the door but he was stopped as the other man let go of his hand and stepped inside to investigate further, this was not what was supposed to be happening right now.

 

The bed called for him and he could feel his eagerness fizzle out, the elegant king that had once ruled acres and acres of land was now snooping around Bard’s office, the romance novel titles emblazoned across the room and how he wished he had the power to wipe minds.

 

There was a palpable silence that surrounded them as Thranduil reached out to touch one of the posters that had been framed on the wall, the author name different, his pseudonym somewhat interesting, the name Dale Greenwood stood stark against the soft pastel backgrounds of his earlier novels, the themes of his first set of books had been soft and delicate before giving way to darker themes, he had quite a following for his fantasy romance involving a dwarf and elf. 

 

There was nothing Bard wanted more than for the earth to swallow him up and spit him out somewhere far away from where he stood now, he padded into the study his socks almost silent against the plush carpet, both had hastily removed their shoes in the heat of the moment and they lay discard by the door haphazardly.

 

“Uh… We don’t need to look at this, it’s just work stuff.” Bard tried to coax Thranduil out but instead he turned suddenly to face the, now embarrassed, author with a questioning look in his eyes.

 

“I’ve read this book, you- you wrote about MY SON AND THAT AWFUL DWARF!” Bard has to admit he did regret bursting in to peals of laughter but as soon as he saw Thranduil do the same his worry melted away and everything felt better.

 

“I’ve read a few of these, mainly because the author name was so familiar, I thought perhaps it had been a coincidence that an author named after two places now long gone had written something that seemed so recognisable to me.

 

I know Legolas would have found this very amusing, and I thank you for that brief moment of amusement and the opportunity to relive the recollections of my child. I know you did not write these with me in mind, you had no idea we had both survived several millennia and were now living in the same city after all this time, but perhaps I like to think that you did this for me regardless… romanticism isn’t my forte but I have moments wherein I give myself over to such escapism.” He at least had the decency to look a tad embarrassed which was sweet, but it warmed Bard’s heart to know that his books had given the blond memories he had not expected.

 

There was a small pit of guilt in his stomach from using the elven king’s son as fodder for his romance novels, however, the man seemed in good spirits, thankfully the romance was not as risqué as other writings, more implied love than anything smutty.

 

He doubted he’d get off so lucky had there been any sort of full blown sex scene described between them, and to be honest Bard did not truly think he would ever be comfortable writing such a thing about a person he knew, even if he was merely lending character traits from them and their relationship dynamic.

 

Thranduil moved toward Bard and slid his hands around his waist pulling him close, leaning in he pressed a soft kiss to Bard’s lips- it was sweet, almost a thank you and nothing like the hot, desire filled kiss from earlier, just the thought of how Thranduil had touched him back in the city park made him shudder and he broke the embrace to look in to the other’s face just for a moment.

 

“Maybe before we do anything we should sit and talk?” He loathed to suggest it, but he and Thranduil needed to at least establish what was going on and what had happened to him, he found himself eager now to hear about the blond’s life.

 

There was no story between them in the past, they had ruled neighbouring kingdoms and had been great allies but as time wore on they drifted apart. Bard because he was busy as a ruler, and Thranduil because he assumed that Bard’s mortal life would end far sooner than he had been led to believe and wished to save himself from that pain.

 

The King of Dale had always assumed there was nothing between them other than a level of friendship only royals shared, it was not a closeness per se but enough that the two would oft sought advice from one another.

 

Bard more so than Thranduil, ruling a kingdom was no easy task, though none had led the man to believe it was a breeze, he just thought that after a few years he would have been able to grasp the concept with both hands like a rope anchoring a ship to port, but instead he felt more at sea as the years went by, the nuances of his every move were analysed and there were times he would vanish to the woodland realm for a reprieve.

 

Upon thinking of this, Bard realised that… perhaps he and Thranduil had a closer relationship than he had once imagined, though the conversations had never reflected that, Thranduil had always been so calm and straightforward with his explanations and conversations.

 

Had that been Thranduil being himself so completely with Bard from the beginning?

 

They had been stood in the study for some time now, Thranduil merely watched as Bard sifted through memories, he had not changed all that much since they first met, he was just cleaner and had gathered some sense when it came to clothing, he looked far healthier than he ever had back then.

 

The marvels of modern medicine perhaps?

 

No, elven healers had always bested the modern world doctors, even those in the highest of ranks now, but as the world grew the magic in the land lessened and the humans of the lands took to using plants and chemicals and science to fix ailments. Thranduil commended them for their refusal to give up, but it made him miss what the world used to be like to a degree.

 

Healthcare and healing was still not fully available to all just like it had been once before. There was still a divide in wealth among the inhabitants of the world and he did see not end in sight on that front.

 

“Then perhaps we ought to speak aloud, I do not believe you ever had the gift of reading minds.” The blond’s deep and beautiful voice roused Bard from his memories, looking to the elf there was a hint of a smile but his eyes seemed sad, this day would end on a blue note and they both knew it.

 

Without a word Bard gestured for Thranduil to follow him and they both moved to the living area slash kitchen. Thranduil made himself comfortable in the chair Laurel often favoured and Bard hovered for a moment before deciding they needed a short distraction before any truly deep conversation started.

 

“Would you like tea or anything?” He asked, it was a stall, obviously, but the blond took it graciously and nodded.

 

“Tea would be wonderful, thank you, Bard.”

 

They stayed silent both knowing that any sort of filler conversation- small talk, would be useless, they both knew what was coming, it would be a long night of “Where have you been?” and “What did you do before this?” and of course, the inevitable of… Everyone we know and love is gone, but how do you put that one in to words?

 

Once they had both settled down with tea it felt, somewhat, relaxed and Bard thought perhaps this didn’t have to be awkward, though he knew it would still be painful. There was no escaping that.

“There is no way to start this, not really, in the end it all comes down to the fact we are both still alive and everyone else we knew and loved is not.” It was straight to the point and Bard was grateful when Thranduil took the lead. Diving right in was better than agitating a wound until it bled again.

 

“I do not know at what point things started to change, I can only recall that one day there was word sent that The Shire had expanded and humans and hobbits lived in harmony, as odd as it seemed at the time I still thought nothing of it.

 

Dale was doing well, and you were a true success as a king, your people loved you, and you had a good relationship with the surrounding kingdoms. Peace was spreading rapidly throughout the land and at that point who would find it concerning?

 

I believe that, it was not until it was too late did I see that the population of man was far larger than it had once been- and then I saw the decline in elves and dwarves, though as you know, the fate of the dwarves was of no consequence to me.” There was a short huffing laugh from Bard at this but it was more an automatic reaction than anything he agreed with, deep down he knew that Thranduil cared if the dwarves vanished from the face of the earth, he cared if all manner of creature did.

 

Elves were sympathetic and empathetic to the plight of all, they just knew how to shoulder the burden of feeling these things without showing it outwardly. Thranduil had always been this way, he was a sensitive soul he just knew that showing it to the world did not change a thing.

 

“Before I could do anything to stop our decline we were so few that we had not the numbers for an army but… there was no enemy, Bard. We died out like a rare species-!” For the first time in his life Bard saw fear in the elf’s eyes and he made to move forward, a hand outstretched already to comfort him, but Thranduil waved him away and composed himself, he closed his eyes and took a sip of the tea from the mug he gripped tightly in his hands, his fingers near white at the strength and Bard wondered if he was strong enough to crush the cup?

 

When Thranduil spoke again his voice shook but Bard was unsure if it was rage or pain- either way he did not like the sound, he didn’t like hearing such emotion in Thranduil’s voice, as much as it calmed him to know the elf could feel things as acutely as anyone else, it still made his heart throb in sympathy.

 

“Eventually we decided that it would be best to scatter to all corners of the world, we wished to find more of ourselves and for the first time in… ah, since Mirkwood was established as my home, it was empty.

 

We abandoned Mirkwood in favour of finding our kind, we were sure there was more of us. For a time, I stayed with Elrond in Rivendell, his numbers too had dwindled, still I found comfort in seeing him and those that lived within the city.

 

Elrond looked into the dwindling numbers but he could only offer that we were so few as nature dictated.

 

His words hurt me, his knowledge was great and I respected him but it gave no less pain to hear that we were dying out and leaving these lands because it was the way it had to be. He explained that just as species of butterflies died out and no longer existed, we too would go the same way.

 

To know we would no longer tread the earth- to leave the trees singing to no one… my heart was heavy for some time and after that night we parted ways and I sought out new company.

 

Though, even to this day, I hold no contempt within me for the things Elrond said, I suppose I was in denial of the inevitable, perhaps my hurt was more that there was naught I could do to stop it.”

 

Bard was speechless, what could he say to all of this, that he was sorry that his kind had done this? There were no words of comfort to be offered.

 

Thranduil took another sip of his tea, he looked exhausted as though sleep had eluded him for some time, Bard noticed that his clothes, while immaculate in cleanliness, were rumpled and his hair was in a messy braid as though he had thrown himself together at the last moment before leaving the house.

 

It was startling, though it took Bard a moment to remember that, while the elf king had always looked so pristine due to an image he had to uphold for his people, as a mere man and part of society he did not need to be so meticulous in his appearance.

 

Pushing the elf’s appearance aside he sighed heavily, his cup clinking on the glass coffee table that separated them the only noise aside from Bard’s exhale of breath. He wanted to talk about everything Thranduil had said but before he could the elf spoke again, his voice calmer this time.

 

“It grew harder for me to find anyone I know, or any of my kind, even just another elf, I had first, naïvely, believed that they’d gone into hiding, secluded themselves so that they may live out their last years in a peaceful solitude away from the prying and curious eyes of humans.

 

We were so few that our appearance in the great wide world was a novelty, it made my skin crawl that I, Thranduil, once a great king of the forest was reduced to nothing more than a spectacle.

 

Being told you are beautiful is a compliment, I understand this, but being told you are a rare and exotic beauty day in and day out merely because your people have died… It was unbearable, and so I moved from town to town, which grew city to city, country to country just to find a place I could blend in, and as I did I came to the decision that I must stretch my glamour from not only my face on one side but to my ears also, and thus one night I left Thranduil the elf behind and became a man…

 

I discarded any finery I still held onto, sold it or gave it away and donned the guise of an average creature and my assimilation was complete, I was no longer stared at for being an elf.

 

One day as I walked the streets it dawned on me that I was the only one left, I could not feel another, I could not feel the belonging that an elf feels when close to another one…

 

That was a thousand years ago or so, I do not count time, it drags on and every day I wake up to the sun shining through my window and every day I realise I am still surviving where others did not.”

 

After all of this the elf got to his feet and moved around the table to sit next to Bard, a hand resting on the brunet’s thigh and a brief squeeze as though to reassure, even after all the hardship Thranduil had suffered he still felt the need to ensure Bard was alright.

 

“I’m sorry, Thranduil. I’m sorry that you had to witness the end of your people. I am sorry that humans have moved on- we’re like a plague.” He began, an anxious laugh as he tried to punctuate his awkward speech with light humour, but to him it sounded desperate.

 

“Bard, please do not take this as an insult, but perhaps you are out of sorts, what human man lives several thousand years, how can you assign yourself as human when they die out like flowers in winter, and yet you have flourished like a might oak without stumbling?” Amusement was clear in the elf’s voice now and it sounded as though they had not just spoken of something that weighed heavy on the souls of both.

 

Bard’s gaze shot from his tea mug on the table to Thranduil’s clear blue gaze, his own eyes wide with the dawning realisation that what the elf had said made perfect sense…

 

If not human, what was he?


	6. Spiralling Downward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bard speaks of his past opening up further on his feelings for Thranduil but there are always pitfalls even in perfect reunions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It got a little dark this chapter, and there are a few twists ahead, I am sorry it took so long to post this but I've been too sad to write lately. I wrote most of this a while ago but didn't finish it until today. 
> 
> I sprained my ankle and so far for 3 days I haven't been able to walk so I took the time to write this. 
> 
> If anyone is interested in listening to the music I wrote this to here is the spotify link: 
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/user/queenkithane/playlist/60ebjjUo85DkyG7qBgWAWQ?si=qYGOZxfQQy2TThVOJdnhMw

#  Chapter Six

 

 

 

They sat in silence for a long moment, the room felt cold.

 

He had lived his life with surety that his mind and body were that of a human man, he grew tired like any man, hungry too… but then… so did Thranduil. Not nearly as quickly but all the same, it was not something he could compare himself to.

 

There is a moment when he cannot bear to look at Thranduil, his heart rate was finally slowing but his blood roared in his ears blotting out the silence and reminding him he was still somehow alive.

 

Blinking slowly trying to bring himself back to the present moment, Bard moved his gaze back to the elf, Thranduil was lost in thought, his eyes lowered to stare at his hands and expression pensive near regretful. Perhaps he worried bringing such a thing up had soured the mood, but nothing could be farther from the truth.

 

Bard felt invigorated; he lived with the fear that the lingering magicks of the long gone ancient forests and races would one day fade, and when it did… the sun would rise high in to the sky and he would be left as nothing but dust.

 

A meek feeling of hope fluttered within in him, was there a chance of a steady future for him?

 

He had lived so long understanding that one day he wouldn’t wake up and so avoided lasting relationships as much as he could, Laurel was an exception, she refused to be pushed away.

 

Bard was thankful for that; he was thankful for her.

 

“Something has- something deemed it necessary to change my genetic make-up.

 

I do not know what I am or how I survived so long.

 

It was gradual; but I realised that everyone grew older and I remained the same, I got tired and hungry as normal not as much as I used to and I would never get sick.

 

Someone made a remark that I didn’t look a day over 40, I think, and I realised they were right. I can’t explain it, Thranduil, I haven’t aged, in fact I think I look younger than I did, or maybe my skin is just smoother, I don’t look haggard.” He made a noise that was likely supposed to come off as a laugh but it just sounded nervous, and he wondered if the terror he felt inside could be seen in his eyes, giving him away as weaker than he portrayed himself.

 

He couldn’t remember how he looked back then, not now, there were no photographs, and he was damned sure to never sit for a painting no matter who pleaded with him that it would be good for their family history.

 

Bard, without realising it, had managed to erase himself from history, his name a minor detail mentioned in myth- stories of dragons and dragon slayers that people told their children at night as they tucked them up in to bed.

 

The life of Bard Bowman was nothing more than a fantasy story to entertain, the hardships wiped out along with the myriad of races he had come into contact with over the years of his human life.

 

“You know… when I first started my wandering I had thought about you. I thought about going to you and asking for help, to ask for guidance on the matter, I was alive and still relatively youthful when I should have been knocking on death’s door asking to be let in.

 

I can’t remember why I didn’t come to you, I knew you’d be alive, after all 40 years was nothing to you- probably a week or even a day for an elf.

 

The forest wouldn’t have changed and you would not have changed.

 

Riding out into the wilderness one day with just my horse and my bow I left all I loved behind. I left a note with the children explaining that I wanted to die with dignity and I wanted to die in solitary within the confines of the woodland realm, a place I had grown to love over the years.

 

A cowardly way out, but at least they believed me dead, at least they didn’t look for me, didn’t come searching.

 

I hope they did not search for me.” Deep down Bard knew they would have, instead there would have been a royal funeral with an empty casket and his children would have stood with empty eyes wondering why their father had abandoned them to die alone?

 

Thranduil moved as though to speak but did not utter a word, his light eyes taking in the details of Bard’s face now- what he was searching for he gave no indication but the penetrating gaze left Bard feeling almost naked and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat before continuing.

 

“I wandered as you did, I settled for short periods of time in small villages, helping hunters hunt or labourers build, fix and maintain homes.

 

There was never anything that kept me in one place, I think… I think I sealed my heart away and every new face I saw was forgotten the moment I left the village, nothing was committed to memory.

 

I didn’t see any point in building lasting relationships when I knew I’d probably outlive them and I had nothing to explain my strange proclivity for not dying.” Another sound meant to portray a laugh, it was twisted and strangled.

 

Again he felt true fear and he continued his story, the hope that once timidly reared its head was beaten down and suffocated by the alarm of not knowing what he was or what would happen next.

 

“It got harder to remain anonymous in small towns and so I moved to bigger cities, and it wasn’t all that hard to lose your identity in the huge crowds. I was stunned at how quickly the world was changing around me and I’m not ashamed to admit that I was scared.

 

There was a brief time wherein all technology was too new and too frightening. I kept myself to myself, and took up some rooms in some dingy little apartment block, no one paid me any attention and I liked it that way.

 

It was no life, I wandered at night and got drunk more often than not. I didn’t spend my time wisely because, in truth, Thran I didn’t know how long I had. Wandering alone never sure when your last day would be- it leaves you feeling on edge to the point that drinking numbs the fear long enough for you to fall asleep and the cycle is continuous.

 

I would wake up, do whatever odd jobs the landlady needed from me to keep the rooms, and for food, whatever money I had left went on cheap wine and I just drank and lamented.

It was quite dramatic and unnecessary but it happened and I am a better man for it.

 

Eventually I found my calling in writing short stories, at first I merely wrote down memories of my children, then events that shaped my life, those were never published but my landlady read them and enjoyed them, and then insisted I wrote a novel, even though I had no skill for the written word.

 

Though, I’ve come on leaps and bounds since then.” This drew a smile from Thranduil, his memories of Bard’s letters pulled a laugh out of him and it rumbled deeply in his throat.

 

In that moment Bard realised how much he truly still adored Thranduil, the sparkling amusement in his eyes as he laughed quietly, the small quirk of his lips as he smiled. This was what it was to no longer be lonely.

 

The room was brighter for that smile, and the Bowman’s soul reached out and clung tightly to the memory of it, grasping at it desperately, and scrambling madly hoping that the light within Thranduil would somehow transfer to him and he wouldn’t feel as cursed as he did right then.

 

Perhaps he would be no good for the elf, he felt dark and dirty. A creature crawling from tar to stain everyone he touched, he would not let himself blot out the light of the elf, not when he had just found him.

 

He felt his blood pounding in his ears again, and his palms felt clammy, and he held his breath for a moment hoping for the feeling to pass.

 

When it didn’t he tried to shakily excuse himself, but Thranduil grabbed at his wrist before he could fully stand and he pulled the brunet to him, his arms wrapping tightly around Bard holding him there.

 

“I see it; I see that horror in your eyes. That you truly believe you are a monster- how could you think such when I know you. I have seen you and what lies within. You may have been a man then, but your soul was kind, how can it not be now?” They clung to one another for a long time to save each other from sinking further into the mire of memories that seemed to fade so quickly leaving them both feeling horribly empty.

 

Bard’s eyes were tightly closed, his face buried in Thranduil’s shoulder, he did not cry, he wasn’t really sure he could now. The feeling of warmth against him in the shape of someone stronger than him was a comfort but still his fear roiled within him like angry black waves that crashed against his rib cage and he felt a tremor ripple through him.

 

Thranduil’s arms went tighter still, no words passed between them until Bard moved to pull away but Thranduil would not let him.

 

“Please, Bard. Let me keep you here a moment longer. Has it not been too long already since we last did this, though platonic last time we embraced, still it feels good to know your warmth still exists. Let me have this- let me feel your bones shift and your skin grow warmer in my arms.

 

There is something inside you that you feed, it is dark and does not belong there and only you can remove it, but let me help you find strength to do so.” When Bard was finally able to pull away he could only offer a weak smile to the blond, though grateful as he was for the comfort, he wondered how they’d ended up at here at this point?

 

“Weren’t we doing something far more interesting earlier?” Bard asks quietly, he couldn’t summon amusement to colour his voice but Thranduil understood him and nodded, that small knowing smile stretching into existence over his pale pink lips. Amazing.

 

“Yes, but this isn’t the right time, we both know that now.”

 

They spent the remainder of their day on Bard’s sofa, they spoke of times long since passed, of how they met, of their children they never strayed back to their wanderings and they did not speak of the here and now.

 

When Thranduil left Bard’s apartment that night it was raining heavily, he hailed a cab home, he sat in a daze his tired mind trying to process all that had happened, all that they had spoken of.

 

The haunted look in Bard’s eyes was ever present in his mind, when he closed his eyes he watched as Bard fell in to the black void into nothingness and the fear that enveloped the other man scared Thranduil to his core.

 

At first it seemed as though Bard was suffering from depression, it seemed likely he was, but the damage being done was not his own mind- it did not aid him but it was not the reason he felt so greatly tarnished- his soul spoke of a broken thing that seemed irreparable but this was not his doing…

 

Thranduil had seen it. That thing that clawed at Bard from the inside staining the man within and filling him with a poisonous and dangerous doubt.

 

Something lived within Bard that was not supposed to be there, and when he had whispered his last goodbye to the writer he knew what it was. Who it was. The flicker of those brown eyes revealed a flash of gold and Thranduil wiped at his eyes stunned as a tear trickled down his cheek.

 

 _Smaug_.


	7. Facing Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laurel has musings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter *coughs* filler. I'm kidding, it is something that needed to be written but needed a chapter of its own.

#  Chapter Seven

 

 

 Laurel tossed her bag to the floor under her coat stand as she entered her home. Shaking off her soaking coat she hung it up still dripping, while toeing her feet out of her boots, the downpour had been expected but not so heavy.

 

She was lucky to have grabbed her navy blue rain slicker before she’d left that morning. 

 

After the events of her day she was tired and feeling a little less sunny than normal. The front she had pulled up drained her faster than any sort of exercise, she’d run miles and climbed mountains, she had swum leagues and had fought hard all her life but nothing compared to this, nothing compared to the sheer exhaustion that came with pretending to be something she was not.  

 

Her hands ached and an ever present itch plagued her as it had done so every single day of her life, this arduous path she walked along with no end in sight was a lonely one and the two she desired to speak with were finally finding themselves in each other. 

 

A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth at the reaction both men had when they first set eyes on one another, how long had they been apart?

 

Moving easily through her apartment with quick, light steps she entered the bathroom and tugged on the string by the door and the bathroom light flickered on. Catching her reflection, she took in her appearance, tired but her deep brown eyes were still bright and alert, her skin dotted in freckles a spattering over the bridge of her nose sweeping over cheekbones. They made her think of constellations, how proud she was of them, a sign of her humanity.

 

A laugh escaped but it was stark and hollow, she mocked herself mentally for thinking there was true beauty in being alive the way she was, all the brightness had left her and she only saw a girl teetering on the edge of a lie and the truth, the circles under eyes not so apparent but Laurel felt the tiredness in her bones. 

 

Not wishing to see the haunted girl in the mirror any longer Laurel turned and made move to switch on the shower behind her. 

 

As she did so her phone chimed signalling a message, pulling the phone from her pocket Thranduil's name scrolled across her screen and she tapped the message open. 

 

_My apologies for today, it was never my intention to sweep Bard off into the city._

_We spent much time together today and... I cannot form the words to articulate how truly thankful I am for having him in my life again._

_I owe you so very much._ One day perhaps you will tell me how you two met?

 

The message short but conveyed much feeling and it left Laurel blushing, it was common for Thranduil to message Laurel regarding many a mundane thing; shift changes, stock deliveries, how awful the weather made him feel and most of all how much he disliked when she moved the plant away from the window in the cafe. Nothing of note but this was, of course, the exception and pride bloomed in her chest before she could stop it. 

 

Validation from the blond was something she craved, it was like a thirst naught but his words could quench, oh! How it enraged and embarrassed her in equal amounts how much a simple thank you from Thranduil filled her with a comforting joy she could not describe.

 

The feeling was short lived, as welcome as it had been, her head and her heart would not let her embrace the words for all they meant, not until everything fell into place.

 

For now, she would have to be content with the feeling of hot water washing over her, a comfort she had come to enjoy over the years, when her loneliness became too much a shower was always the answer.

 

Being alone was nothing new but it didn’t make it any easier to bear when the long cold nights set in, and it was not as though she desired romantic company, any company at all was good enough for her.

 

Laurel relished in the feeling of normalcy whenever she went to Bard’s, he always invited her in, they always had tea or wine and their conversation flowed easily, she trusted and loved the author.

 

It may not have ever been spoken aloud, but Laurel felt as though she was part of his family that he had accepted her even as a stranger back when she was studying- he had taken her under his wing when she had reached out to him to ask him about his novels.

 

At first Bard had given stunted answers, as though the idea of explaining his process was surprising and he was wholly unprepared, the way he had worded some of his responses to her in an email… they had seemed as though the very stories themselves were a mystery to him and he was merely a host, a ghost writer to the tales.

 

Finally, he had told her that they had always lived inside him and it was only now that he had managed to get his mind and hands to work in sync. It had been a joke, of course, but there was no denying that he was hiding something, not malicious just deeply sad and personal.

 

Now she would show up to his home and they would talk as friends, they were close and she always felt better for seeing someone she cared for. There was always so much energy inside her when she had spoken to Bard, it was the same when she worked alongside Thranduil at the café.

 

It was a giddiness that washed over her in spades, even though the conversation was usually geared towards work it cheered her to know people could talk casually to her, his words were never measured, or cruel.

 

It should have been enough.

 

It wasn’t.

 

When Bard and Thranduil had settled she would go to both of them and she would explain herself.

The room was now filled with steam from the hot water, the mirror foggy but even with the distorted view Tauriel’s reflection was apparent.

 

_Once Bard and Thranduil had settled she would go to both of them and she would explain herself…_

_… and then she would ask for answers._


	8. Firing Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few things are revealed and a lot is to be spoken on later. For now more pressing matters need to be attended to. Thranduil and Bard don't seem to be getting any closer and now there is a reason why.

Chapter Eight

  
Tauriel was scrubbing tables when Thranduil arrived to work the next morning.

Right away she knew something was wrong, his movements were measured as though he had to remind himself to walk, his eyes distant and his greeting strained- though supposing to appear casual.

For a moment Tauriel let it slide, this was only one day after seeing Bard again, perhaps they were… she shook her head, she didn’t really want to think about the two of them being intimate.

It wasn’t until the plant started whispering, and Thranduil did not even flinch, that she wondered if something terrible had happened between them. It seemed unlikely, the two kings had always had a kinship other royals could not fathom.

Sighing, she set down the cleaning cloth and put her hands on her hips, she gave Thranduil a narrow eyed stare until he looked at her, surprisingly he looked as though he wanted to talk but something was holding him back. She wondered if it was perhaps something to do with the past, there were moments where he would offhandedly mention a name or place that no longer existed and an expression of exhausting pain would pass over his features for a moment when he had realised what had been said. In those moments Thranduil would close his eyes and wait for the emotions to subside, it was apparent he could still feel pain acutely for people and places that had long since turned to dust.  
The blond always looked haunted by something, and that damned plant didn’t help, she wasn’t sure why he kept the damned thing around, it was an abomination and it frightened her greatly.

Did it know she could understand it?

With a shudder passing over her, Tauriel moved expertly between the tables and chairs towards the serving counter, Thranduil was setting things up and steadfastly refused to meet her gaze as he stacked cups and filled up the self-serve milk jugs that went by the sugar and napkins.

“So, are you going to tell me how things went with Bard yesterday, he’s my friend and judging by the way you came in just now- it doesn’t seem it went all that well?” It was easy to make it sound like she was suspicious a true concern had made its home in her chest and her stomach felt like someone had dropped a bag of ice in there.

For the first time ever in her entire existence she saw Thranduil bite his lip, it was short lived but the unease on his face was enough to keep from mentioning the action that was so out of character for him. Something troubled him deeply and Tauriel knew he desperately wanted to speak of it.

At a loss on what to do, Thranduil threw his hands up in frustration and carried on about his day setting up for the 6am rush.

Tauriel left it at that. It seemed kinder that way.

When the rush finally died down in the café, Tauriel sought out Thranduil, who had taken refuge in his office for 20 minutes, once again she afforded the kindness not to point out that he had left her to deal with the rush of work again.

“Hey, so maybe it seems like I’m continuously bugging you for details but I just want to know what is going on because you’re avoiding my questions and I asked Bard if everything was ok and he said he was happy to see you… he said nothing weird happened. So… if this is something you are dealing with you need to speak up.

Is it because you don’t feel anything romantically for him anymore?” It was a cruel question, because she knew that would not be the answer, and Thranduil was not unfeeling. Elves had always felt the most intensely of all races in Middle Earth.

The elf gifted her with a deadly look but it was gone as soon as it had appeared.

Thranduil felt a strange pull within him when Laurel spoke, she seemed sympathetic and, strangely, understanding of his plight even when he was refusing to speak of it to her. He let shoulders drop and he felt true defeat. Nothing seemed easy, nothing ever had been...

“All is well, please do not worry about something you believe is plaguing me.” The blond’s tone was cool as though to hurt Laurel but she knew... she knew he did it to save her more than himself.

With a huff she turned her back on Thranduil and flounced out of the office and back in to the cafe to serve the small line of customers.

They really needed more staff to run the place.

The plant at her side whispered something, but she didn’t catch it, instead of acknowledging it like Thranduil she would merely ignore it as though she hadn’t heard it. There was no reason for her to give the thing any more attention than it already received.

Thranduil reappeared after a few moments to assist her in the rush, they didn’t speak unless to relay orders to one another. Something bothered Thranduil and Tauriel needed to know what it was, something had happened between Bard and her king and she was going to find out...

Even if it meant revealing herself to gain his trust.

A few days passed and still Thranduil said nothing, any time mention of Bard was made he would busy himself with something else or mutter that he hadn’t heard from the author and did not wish to bother him so often as he may have been in the midst of feverishly writing a new novel.

It was bullshit.

Tauriel was even near calling him out over it but held her tongue, there was no need for further upset, she could clearly see something bothered the blond and exacerbating it would do no good by being ever present bothering him with queries she could easily ask Bard.

Still, many questions laid wait on her tongue until the right moment, and that moment walked through the door 5 minutes before closing on Monday night looking very concerned and very bedraggled from the wind and rain pelting the streets outside.

When Thranduil saw Bard come through the door his body tensed and he made to turn away but stopped in his tracks as though realising it would be a mistake.

The brunet strode over, droplets of water flying off him as he did so.

“You won’t answer my calls or my messages...” He stopped when he noticed Laurel and bit his lip, this should be a private conversation but before he could request such courtesy Thranduil spoke.

“My apologies, we were rushed here, there is only the two of us working and I have left Laurel on her own for far too long far too often to-“  
“Hey! Do not use me as your excuse as to why you’re avoiding my friend.” Tauriel began her own tirade but stopped short, this was not about her, it never had been and she was not about to make a scene.

Thranduil gave her a seething look but it died out quickly as he turned his attention back to Bard who held fire in his eyes yet there was something different about him...

Golden eyes. Slitted black pupils surrounded by the glittering intensity of a power that should be long dead.

Yes, yeeessss, see me, oh great elven lord.

“If you’re going to avoid me at least give me a good GOD DAMN reason. All these years I was alone and the minute relief comes to me in the form of a confidant and friend you turn your back on me as though I am not enough.

Why did you forsake me so easily, why did you forsake me with such speed?” Bard caught himself before his anger peaked into something else, and instead he put distance between himself and Thranduil. His head ached and for a moment he swore he had blacked out before he snapped at the elf.

Thranduil looked terrified at Bard’s outburst and the bowman regretted his words immediately. He had let the years of loneliness build up into a bitterness he hadn’t realised he possessed and unleashed it all on the unsuspecting blond.

“I’m sorry, Thranduil. You did not deserve this anger. I’d better go and cool off, if after this you still want to see me you know where I’ll be.” Bard used Thranduil’s horrified silence to leave without dispute.

When the door slammed shut Thranduil moved to action and rushed to the door throwing it open as though to follow but all he was greeted with was an empty street and the darkness of another night setting in.

They had been lucky the place had been empty, around 8pm it was more like a cemetery than a reputable coffee shop.

Thranduil looked round to Laurel who was stood still stunned at what had happened. Bard had scared her for the first time in her long life and she had no answers to explain the odd occurrence.

“What... What just happened. Did you see his eyes?!” Finally she spoke and Thranduil stalked towards her his face set with distrust as he bared down on her as though to study her inside and out.

“What are you and who are you to have the power to see such a thing manifest. No mortal would have seen that.” Upon realising she had accidentally given herself away Tauriel sighed and let the glamour drop. There was no use hiding it from him now, and how long would it have been before he realised anyway?

Her glamour was good but she would not always be strong enough to keep it up, not to the standard that would allow her to be completely incognito around the elven lord.

“Tauriel, this cannot be. How would you have the power to hide yourself from me for all these years, when I called out to elves you did not come to me...” For a moment he sounded pained, pained that someone he knew so well had abandoned him without a second thought but deep down she knew he understood her motives.

“I did it to protect myself. I could not live under your rule as I once had. You banished me, Thranduil. You were not my king from that day and when you called I felt no allegiance to you. Why answer the call of a man that would seek to have me in servitude ‘til he did not need me again?” The harsh truth was warranted and Thranduil did not seek to reprimand the redhead for being open and honest with him.

“I work for you here on my terms, and do not think for a single moment that, while I listen to your instructions here, that you could ever hold your power over me again. I spent my life craving your validation only for you to toss me aside when my ideals did not match yours.” There was silence between them for a long moment- Tauriel could feel her heart pounding and the blood roaring in her ears as she watched Thranduil processed her words. His expression unreadable leaving her frightened to the outcome of her emotional outburst.

They had built an odd sort of friendship up over the few years they had worked together and now all of that was on the verge of collapsing around her... but she felt better, lighter almost from telling him just how she felt.

With the shackles of rank that had weighed her down all those years gone she felt as though wings had unfurled and she could take flight and watch the world disappear as she soared up into the clouds high in to the blue sky she had stared at for so many hours in her youth.

Thranduil’s words brought her back to earth.  


“I hope that now you have gotten this out in the open that our friendship can remain as it was before you revealed yourself to me.” The words measured as though the elven lord had taken immense care in finding the right words to convey that he completely understood her.  


“I would like to spend more time with you, Tauriel.” He paused as his gaze moved back to the door Bard had exited through not moments ago, his face now lined with concern and he made no attempt to hide it, “But... now there are things you must know.”  


The ex guard captain nodded and gestured to a table for them to take a seat. So far they had been blessed with quiet cafe, no regulars, no shift workers in need of a caffeine fix. The world, it seemed, had taken into account the struggles within the coffee shop and left it well alone, for now.  


“You saw it as well as I did, a moment ago... Bard was not himself.” For the first time in her life Tauriel saw Thranduil with an expression of exhaustion, he was tired and scared and he had no answers for what he was about to reveal.  


“That moment you saw Bard it was not him, that brief flash of orange and gold, that was not the dragon slayer but the dragon.”  


“You are not making sense, Thranduil.”  


“That was Smaug The Dragon Dread. Those eyes are unmistakable- taunting... haunting. Tauriel, I am unsure how to proceed. What must I do?”  


“Go to Bard, you need to see him to make things right first. I do not think he is aware of what happens within him.”  


Thranduil did not wait for anything further from his estranged daughter, he would return to her once he had seen Bard and they would talk, it was the least he could do, though he knew she deserved more. 


	9. Stop Dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confrontation is imminent, however, it is not with Bard. Thranduil is offered something very interesting regardless the repercussions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no BETA PLEASE FORGIVE ME. I love you all.

Chapter Nine

 

Bard fell into bed as soon as he got home, it was a blackout and a dead to the world sleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, and strange dreams followed him as his eyes closed.

  
Well, he assumed it was a dream. That would remain to be seen.

  
For a long time he was in total darkness, his eyes could not pick out a single speck of light. He could feel the wind rushing by his ears and he realised he was falling... How long for he was unsure, Hell! He didn’t even know where he was or what was going on.

  
So for an unmeasurable amount of time Bard fell, it wasn’t flying, he could not control his limbs or any extras he may have grown while he had been unconscious, however long that had been.

  
If this was a dream it was tame compared to the others he’d had. There were no dragons nor fire here, no screaming villagers- the loss of control was still there but his waking life had no control in it either. He had long since understood that, regardless how normal life could be, anything was possible and anything could change in a second.

  
As dreams went, if this was a dream he reminded himself, it was relatively peaceful. Bard had long since gotten over any fear of falling. He could not remember the last time he had felt physical pain or felt fear for anything.

  
How long had it been since he had hissed out in pain from an accidental injury or had the wind knocked out of him from brute force?

 

\-----------------------  
When Thranduil arrived at Bard’s apartment he was soaking wet, the rain had been unforgivingly torrential. He banged on the apartment door as loud as he could until he heard movement before the door swung open- Bard was stood looking dishevelled as though he had only awoken but his eyes... he seemed far more alert than the blond had expected him to be.

  
“Thran, what are you doing here?” Bard’s voice, yes, that kind, soft and warm sound with a sleepy rasp- Valar, it sounded like a home from home. “You better come in. I suppose there are things we need to talk about.” The bowman sounded put out and Thranduil could forgive him for that. He was right, though, they had things they needed to talk about but how could he be sure this was Bard and not Smaug?

  
That moment back in the cafe seemed more a warning than the fire drake revealing himself but Thranduil had known, he had know the moment he had embraced the dragon slayer. Nothing was what it seemed any more and the spirit of a damned dragon- a true scourge had taken the purest of men and sullied his soul without hesitation.

  
As though his thoughts were spoken out loud Bard welcomed Thranduil into his home with a chilling grin, eyes devoid of warmth yet blazing gold and orange like the inferno that had engulfed Laketown.

  
He hesitated a moment knowing that the second he stepped into the apartment he was at Smaug’s mercy, and he was well aware that there was no knowing what he was capable of in the body of a man.

  
Bard tilted his head slightly to one side as though to question the hesitance before Thranduil smiled apologetically and gestured to his soaking form dripping on the door step, without another word Bard vanished before returning with a towel and proffering it to the elven lord.

  
“You left the cafe so quickly you did not give me a chance to explain anything to you. I apologise that I have been avoiding you- No. No, I cannot do this. I know you are not Bard.” The blond snapped he threw the towel aside and strode right up to Bard until they were near nose to nose.

  
“You have played me for a fool to bring me here, and here I am. What is it you seek from me?” The look of surprise on Bard’s face should have been a victory but all it did was remind him that the dragon slayer was trapped within and an intruder was the one that now grinned as though his mouth was filled with rows of dagger like teeth.

  
The swagger too bold to be Bard, Smaug moved too well in the body of a man as he put distance between them, and it drew such rage forth from within Thranduil. Usually so measured and so indifferent he could feel the swell of disgust knowing that... that thing taunted him with ease from within an innocent man.

  
“ _There are many thingsss I want, Elven Lord._ ” Smaug began all the while holding that dangerous smirk, “ _Mostly I want your cooperation, I am sure it will be to your interests to hear me out at leassst._ ” His deep voice clashed with the modern tongue he spoke with and Thranduil felt his stomach twist at the thought that Smaug has been awake so long he had managed to take on some of Bard’s personality as though to absorb the real man and take his place.

  
This could not come to pass. Thranduil could not lose Bard so soon after finding him. Not to some fire breathing serpent that had been vanquished before!

  
“W _e both want to the same thing, dear elf. To see the old world return to the full glory it once was. To see the age of mortal men come to an end._ ” When Thranduil did not respond to his words Smaug moved closer to the blond and offered another dark smile as though he was already victorious in his convincing of Thranduil. “ _Come now, your silence means nothing other than you are thinking about the old world. You could have all you were and more, elven lord. You would pledge your allegiance to me and all would be the way it once was._ ” When the elf still did not respond to the tantalising deal he had so graciously offered he huffed with annoyance.

  
This was not a difficult task, there were many stories of this cold elven lord who would do anything to protect his kin, Smaug would easily convince Thranduil with the return of his kingdom and if that did not sway him- well, there was the beating heart of Bard that would easily have the blond playing into his hands.

  
It was no secret how Bard felt for Thranduil and using that against the elf was just another way to coerce him into giving into him without further resistance.   
With this thought in mind Smaug moved toward the blond. Thranduil’s face was still set with anger, teeth bared as moved to defend himself his stance tense as though prepared to attack should he need to. The drake tried to contain his fiendish glee as he forced Thranduil to take several steps back invading the elf’s personal space, when the blond’s back met with the wall Smaug took action.

  
“ _I wonder if your anger and your pain are stemmed from my using this wonderfully malleable body. It was so easy to slip in unnoticed. Who knows I may stay... or I may find someone or something stronger. Once I have used up this one I can discard the bones and move on to something far superior._ ” He lifted a hand and planted it against the wall beside Thranduil’s head, the other hand grabbing the elf’s wrist lifting it to his lips he pressed a kiss to the pale knuckles of Thranduil’s hand.

  
Thranduil wrenched his hand from Smaug’s as every nerve in his body set alight with unadulterated rage, he wanted to strangle the life out of those eyes but he could not bring himself to hurt Bard, regardless of whether the man was present or not, his body would come to no harm from him.

  
“You think you can bring me to heel with poisoned words sweetened with honey. I’m sure my agreement would be bile on my tongue and a stroke to your ego. You threaten me as though you can bring me to my knees... but let me tell you this.

  
I have felled bigger dragons than you.” A thrill spiked down his spine at the sour look on Smaug’s face, the drake leaned in with his hot tongue and licked a stripe over the elf’s cheek before kissing him deep and rough without warning.

  
Thranduil threw him back with ease in his haste forgetting just who housed the abominable lizard, at the last moment he grabbed Bard’s wrist while directing a white hot glare right into the eyes of Smaug.

  
A strange laugh of pleasure rang out through the room and Thranduil winced at the sound of it.

  
“ _I like your bitter bite, elven lord. Let us see how well you spar in our next verbal match. I shall leave your precious Bard for now, but you will spend your days never knowing when I will return and when I do... it shall be the end._ ” It was an ominous warning but Thranduil did not heed such words, he was an empty threat, what could he do in the body of a man. Bard had physical limits that Smaug would be restricted for a spell.  
It wasn’t enough.

  
Thranduil was at a loss on how to over come this, Bard had to know and then they had to form a plan.

  
\-------------------------  
Just when he thought he’d spend the rest of his life falling through the impenetrable darkness a crack of light appeared above him and a familiar voice called out to him with great concern in every word.

  
Bard opened his eyes, the first thing he noticed was that he was lying on the floor of the hallway, the second thing was that there was a soaking wet Thranduil leaning over him. The icy blue eyes of the elf were filled with fear but he wasn’t given the option of asking him if he was ok as Thranduil pulled him to his feet and wrapped his arms around him in a tight embrace.

  
“T- Laurel gave me quite a talking to after you left and I realised that I could not leave things the way they were.” When the blond pulled away Bard was left standing stunned and a little damp from the elf’s soggy embrace, he shivered and moved to turn the thermostat up but it was already so high...

  
“I don’t think I’m feeling too good, Thran,” Bard rubbed at his face with the back of his hand his mind feeling a bit foggy but he assumed it was from just waking up- but he had been on the floor how that had even happened?

  
“How- how did you get in? This door has a dead bolt on it unless you can turn to mist and slip in through the key hole.” He tried for a joke even through the hazy fog that now descended to his eyes made it difficult to focus on anything.

  
“This is a conversation for when you are not paler than the moon, I think.” Thranduil responded softly- Smaug had leeched the energy from his host and now Bard was left with the aftermath. “You must rest for a while. Even if I told you now I doubt you could truly take in anything I say... I doubt you even understand what I’m saying at this very moment.” That much was evident. Thranduil watched as Bard squinted in the light as though it pained him- he seemed so fragile in that very moment and it scared Thranduil.

  
If he managed to rid Bard of this parasite how long would he last, would he continue to live as long as Thranduil or Tauriel or was Smaug the only thing keeping him alive?

  
It played on his mind as he helped Bard into bed, Bard tried to say something but it came out as a mumble and Thranduil knew he didn’t have the energy to repeat himself. Bard already moved as though his body weighed ten times more than it had that morning.

  
Once he had made sure Bard was sleeping he moved to the kitchen and folded himself into a chair and pulled his phone from his pocket.  
Never had ever felt so small. Insignificant and useless.

  
His phone vibrated in his hand pulling back from his despairing thoughts momentarily, it was a text from Tauriel asking him how things went.

  
_Awful. The world is upside down and I am unsure there is much we can do to fix it_.

He threw his phone on coffee table in front of him and sighed, things were a mess- in all his long life he could not recall a moment where he had to deal with possession.

  
This was something Mithrandir could have handled this without issue, perhaps?

  
Perhaps Smaug’s offer... was something to think about. 


	10. Forget Me Not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thranduil grumbles. Tauriel reveals herself. Bard suffers and Plants suck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HAVE NO BETA. 
> 
> Please Lord Help Me. 
> 
> This chapter gave me Hell because I am a terrible person and I honestly believe this is garbage but it is because I've stared at it too long and beaten myself up too much!
> 
> I love you all
> 
> Save my soul.

Chapter Ten

 

Thranduil didn’t go home that night.

  
He stayed in Bard’s apartment alternating between pacing the kitchen and checking in on the dragon slayer, he seemed to sleep soundly and Thranduil felt envious of him for a moment.

  
He knew deep down that if he slept he would be plagued by questions all with the face of Smaug- no that would not do, staying awake seemed a much easier task when you were afraid to sleep.

  
Tauriel messaged him again but he didn’t read it, it would not have been anything constructive and he truly had nothing to say in reply- his mind was on other things but namely the man in the other room and how he was going to word what he wished to say to him.

  
Valar! He should have sailed.

  
Was it even a possibility now?

  
\-------------------

  
When Bard woke he heard someone mumbling unhappily from the other room, the obvious displeasure would have been coming from Thranduil and it gave him a small thrill to know what it would be like to wake up with him there every morning.

  
It was wishful thinking. Domesticity didn’t seem to sit well with either of them as far as Bard was aware but he didn’t truly know Thranduil as well as he used to people can change... elves can change.

  
His body felt heavy when he pulled himself out of bed, still fully dressed just sans shoes but he didn’t feel any worse for wear after waking up on the cold floor of his hallway last night. There didn’t seem to be any lasting illness or whatever it was that had come over him when Thran had woken him.

  
_That’s right... Thran looked terrified last night. I need to ask him about that_. The bowman heaved a sighed at his own thoughts he wasn’t really sure if Thranduil would speak to him about it. Whatever it had been it had to be awful as he’d never seen such an expression on the elf before.

  
Regardless of what they did speak on he had to apologise for being such an ass in the cafe, he wasn’t sure where the anger had come from only that he really didn’t like it and truly hoped there would not be a repeat.

  
Forcing himself to stand he padded in to the kitchen slash living area where Thranduil was stood, hands on his hips, looking extremely put out though also rather unsurprised. When he turned to Bard he gestured to the empty fridge, door still ajar which he pulled open to emphasize his point.

  
“What exactly do you eat while you’re home, and if you don’t eat at home at least tell me you have enough sense to eat out. Come to think of it... you are rather thin, are you even eating at all?” The mothering tone threw Bard off momentarily, it had been quite sometime since someone had cared for his well being, even Laurel wasn’t huge on reminding him to do anything other than get out of bed.

  
Then again he was a grown man he knew how to take care of himself, he just sometimes didn’t do what he knew he had to. It wasn’t worrying he was just honestly lazy at times. Perhaps his bad habits didn’t seem so bad when he didn’t have guests over more than once a month.

  
“I eat out all the time. No point buying food I forget to cook when I am busy writing. That and cooking for one person isn’t easy- I’ve been alive for thousands of years now and I still set the table for 4 and I still cook for too many.” His joking manner dissipated as he continued to speak until all he could feel was sorrow uncurling in his stomach and blooming in his chest.

  
He missed his children.

  
Thranduil could not relate- he had grown accustomed to being alone, to being the only one of his kind. Eating alone, sleeping alone... being alone was easy. He was used to coming home to a cold and empty hallway, he would read alone and go out in to the country side without knowing another soul.

  
The blond had made it hard for others to befriend him, for a long time he and, who he thought was, Laurel were merely work acquaintances. Thranduil being the boss and she being the employee but that was not so now, he understood that she had managed to worm her way in to his life as a friend.

  
He understand now that Tauriel had done this so he had not been so utterly alone, but to Bard being without a family was soul crushing... how he had survived was beyond the elf, his mind was strong but his heart must have ached day in day out from the loss.

  
The warmth of a family could never truly be replaced.

  
“This is hard for you I know that. It was not my intention to stir up unpleasant feelings. I merely wanted to ensure you were taking care of yourself. Empty cupboards are not a good sign. It worried me that I could not cook for you.” Bard, who had lowered his gaze to his hands in embarrassment, looked up to the elf and gave a small smile.

  
“You would cook for me?” His voice small but hopeful, to have some semblance of family, of unity would be a dream. Bard had never been a fan of the solitary life and when he found Thranduil again he assumed things would change here and there... even with the occasional hiccup things were on the up slightly.

  
“You need your strength, Bard...” The elf trailed off looking uneasy, it was the first time Bard had seen him look so lost and unsure. The sadness that had curled around his insides had frozen now and all he felt was concern.

  
What had left Thranduil looking so worried?

  
“Why don’t we go out for breakfast, are you ready to leave?” Bard looked down at his creased clothed before he ran a hand through his messy mop of hair.

  
“I can be ready in 5 minutes?” Thranduil nodded and sat down on the sofa to wait, he looked so prim and proper even in the clothes he had been wearing the day before. Even when he had looked so unsure nothing seemed to truly ruffle his appearance.

  
Bard half jogged to his room to change, he threw on a clean t shirt and jeans and wrestled his hair into a tie- it was still a god awful mess but it looked tidier than his wild curls. Idly he wondered what it was about himself that Thranduil found attractive, was it looks alone or personality... perhaps a bit of both.

  
It would probably be bad manners if he asked.

  
Still he wanted to find out, but more than that he wanted to find out what worried plagued him- Thranduil likely kept many things from him, elves were quite secretive it was in their nature to protect themselves, but if this involved him, well, Bard would need to know.

  
When he reappeared looking better dressed than earlier Thranduil seemed pleased and all earlier negativity seemed purged from his mind, he rose from his seat with all the grace Bard had never possessed himself and moved to stand by his side.

  
“How do you manage to look so handsome with such little effort?” Thranduil’s deep voice intoned with a hint of disbelief followed by a rather, in Bard’s opinion, shy smile.

  
After much deliberation they decided on a small restaurant close to Thranduil’s cafe, he wanted to check in on Tauriel before dragging Bard home and back to bed, the place was small like the cafe but cheerful and had many options for breakfast which Thranduil urged Bard to pick as many as he wished of.

  
After a small, but somewhat cute, argument Bard decided on waffles with bacon which the elf wanted to disapprove of, but who was he to argue, as long as Bard ate he was happy. Thranduil himself settled for a vegetable omelette.

  
He picked at the food at first until Bard told him that he had to lead by example. This prompted him to eat and they fell into a comfortable silence.  
It wasn’t until they headed into the cafe did Bard feel the air around him grow tense, Thranduil took his hand and pulled him to the back office- this was not how things were supposed to go but this was how it was happening regardless.

  
He called ‘Laurel’ over and explained to her that it was time to tell Bard the truth, with that he leaves them both stood in the draughty and cramped office while he saw to customers in Laurel’s absence.

  
“So...” Bard began as he moved to lean against Thranduil’s desk, “You are also keeping something from me, but you have to tell me and Thran doesn’t have to reveal his secret... you know- the one that makes him look at me all sad like. As if I am dying and he hasn’t the heart to tell me.”

  
Laurel looked almost as horrified as Thranduil had when Bard had first awoken on the cold floor of his hallway.

  
“I’m sorry, Bard. You were never supposed to find out- but then I found Thranduil and you and... I knew I would have to tell you both eventually. So, here it goes. My name is not Laurel. It never was, all my documents confirming my birth and my name are forged- it is amazing how easy it is to acquire those... but anyway.” She offered her open hands, palms facing the sky as she let the glamour drop and Tauriel stepped out of the illusion.

  
“Tauriel... are you kidding- I...” His heart leapt, another one from his past and yet he felt betrayed that after all these years it was only now that she was herself and only because Thranduil made her.

  
All in all, he had to be true to himself, he wasn’t angry maybe hurt but that would pass because now someone else from his life was here. His past was showing up and it gave him tremendous strength and hope that there were more out there.

  
Perhaps... even his children.

  
“Out of all the people that could show up in my life, I am glad that you and Thranduil are those that found the strength to carry on.” The relief on the redhead’s face was almost comical but a smile soon spread over her face and she moved to hug him.

  
“I do not think I could have bared rejection from you, Bard. You are still my best friend in this life, I still care for you and I still adore your books. Now you must know that I reached out to you because I realised that you had written about my life, I knew you must have been there to witness some of it.” Once again Bard found himself in a state of mortification, those books would haunt him for the rest of his days and if anyone else showed up he was going to spend the rest of his life unable to look anyone in the eye.

  
“Tauriel, those books... the fact you and Thranduil have read them. I feel my soul dissolve inside myself knowing regal elven eyes has read my written word.” He was laughing but Gods it was a nervous one.

  
Tauriel teased him a moment for it but stopped when Thranduil opened the office door awaiting word on Bard’s mental state after finding out the guard captain was his best friend.

  
“Ah, I see all is well. I had hoped this would be easy. It seems at least one thing has gone right. I offer my greatest apologies Tauriel but I cannot stay in the cafe for much longer. I fear Bard is unwell and I hope to return him to bed as soon as possible.” Tauriel only nodded at Thranduil’s words she flitted off back into the cafe, not before throwing a bright smile Bard’s way before her glamour was up and she was Laurel again for the loyal customers.

  
“I honestly think I’m ok, Thran... but let’s go home anyway.” Bard had begun his argument but stopped at the warning look from the elf... his elf?  
Who was to know in these oddest of times?

  
The bowman picked his way through the tables and chairs, as he passed the counter he stopped dead and stared at the little plant on the cash register, it was an innocent looking thing, a little green vine sprouting from the damp soil packed into a little orange plant pot.

  
_End is nigh, is it not, Bard?_

  
_End comes and you will be the cleansing fire that brings about a new age._

  
_End. End. End. End._

  
_You are the beginning of the end._

  
The brunet stared at the little vine, he couldn’t quite put his finger on what the plant was only that he was extremely put out by the fact is had spoken to him, he felt numb for a moment before he felt true dread come over him.

  
Plants were not meant to talk...

  
Thranduil, who had been dragged into small talk by a regular, glanced over to see Bard pale as he stared down at the little plant that, once again, had been moved away from the window and back to the counter.

  
Bard turned to look at him and Thranduil darted over pushing the plant away and into Tauriel’s hands. She had been quick to notice Bard’s unease and moved the thing to the other side of the counter to the window.

  
“Tell me what is going on and tell me now.”

 


	11. All Fired Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smaug makes another appearance and Thranduil finally tells Bard that is the unwilling host of the scourge. 
> 
> Also a surprise from their past makes a surprisingly non-dramatic entrance. For Once. 
> 
> Whose in charge here?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, sorry for not updating for so long.
> 
> PLease enjoy chapter 11

##  Chapter Eleven

 

 

Tauriel and Thranduil shared a glance both pale with dread at the coming conversation. 

 

The look between the two elves did not inspire positivity in Bard and he folded himself into a nearby chair weariness overtaking his need to be informed on the situation, but only for a moment- there were far too many people in the cafe for him to cause a scene and, honestly, he didn’t have the damned energy to continue with any sort of fervour. 

 

Too much happened too often and the dread that constantly plagued him left him empty, what people saw of him on the outside was all there was. He’d given so much away throughout his life, to save himself pain further down the line. 

 

It had worked for the most part, but emotion would flood him in fits and starts leaving him seemingly erratic rather than eccentric, which how he oft would play it off when he could. 

 

Without any discussion between the two elves, Thranduil slid into a seat opposite Bard and Tauriel continued serving coffee to the few customers that had entered the cafe at that moment. 

 

“You must understand that I had no intention in keeping this from you, Bard. Though, now I know this seems an excuse and perhaps too late to say.” Thranduil had the decency to shift uncomfortably in his seat as he spoke, his gaze flitting from Bard’s to the table top as though having difficulty in looking at the brunet. 

 

For a moment Bard watched as Thranduil struggled to start, and he wondered if what was happening truly worried him more than he let on. Thranduil had always been a proud man, a king who could walk tall and face head on any enemies or problems. 

 

“Whatever it is… I need to know,” Bard sighed and reached out to take one of the blond’s hands in his own. “Does this involve many people, is someone in danger?” At the truly pained look on Thranduil’s face, Bard drew back quickly though he did not move his hand from the blond’s. 

 

“I see… I only ask because something is happening to me, and I think you know what. These blackouts… the fact I can hear plants talk- there is magic still in this world Thranduil and you know the cause of this.” 

 

There was no use denying it, he couldn’t. Magic had always existed, Thranduil was beginning to think it could never die out, it would never fade. A small comfort but for the moment he kept his mind on the problem at hand. 

 

As he opened his mouth to speak, an elderly gentleman shuffled by and set his coffee cup down at the table.

 

Both men look up at the stranger interrupting them and promptly all words gathered to shoo him away died- there stood before them in modern garb was none other than Gandalf! 

 

Bard jumped to his feet in an instant it seemed so silly to think the feeling running through him at this moment was relief but Gods, it truly felt like it. 

 

“I can’t believe it, Gandalf! Take a seat. You’re actually alive…” The Bowman shook his head in disbelief, though his smile was bright as he gestured for the wizard to take a seat with them. 

 

“Mithrandir, it is a wonder to see you. Where have you had yourself hidden all these years?” Barely a greeting but it didn’t seem to bother the old man who pulled out a chair and joined them both. “Perhaps you have truly impeccable timing as you have always assured us you did.” 

 

“Thranduil, allow me to confirm that a wizard always arrives precisely when he means to. I am needed here and not just as Bard’s editor.” The aged wizard grinned, as he moved to lift his drink from the table Thranduil’s head whipped round to face Bard, his gaze intense. 

 

Almost immediately Bard throws his hands up in surrender his eyes wide in confusion, he had no idea that the man he had communicated with through email had been one of the most powerful wizards in Middle Earth at one time. 

 

“Ah, leave him be, Lord Thranduil. The poor man had no idea, he generally has no idea about much, but his memory for past events is stellar for a human but I am sure you’ve come to notice that after reading his books.” He tossed a wink at Thranduil who merely grimaced but before he could speak Gandalf was on his feet and tugging Thranduil from his seat by the shoulder of his shirt. “Excuse us, Bard. I must speak quickly with Thranduil business of his son you understand.” 

 

Thranduil’s mouth went dry.

 

Could Legolas still be alive? 

 

Thranduil led Gandalf to the office, it was more like a supply closet but it did the job when he needed it to. When the door was shut Thranduil stood at one side of the desk watching Gandalf shuffle about, he desperately hoped he would have answers but something told him there was more to this than met the eye. 

 

“Your son…” The wizard began though he wished he had not started at all, “He is alive and well to an extent.” 

 

Tears welled up in Thranduil’s eyes upon hearing the news, his son was alive he had survived and possibly even thrived in the shifting tides of life that had washed away the rest of his kin. 

 

How had he not felt him, was this another trick of a glamour? 

 

“I loathe to say this and please do not misunderstand my change of subject as disinterest for my son, but there is something greater that needs your attention.” His heart hurt as he steered the conversation away from Legolas- his son would understand, he knew this. The young man had understood so much, much more than he should ever have had to. 

 

Since he was an elfling dealing with the loss of his mother, Legolas had understood and processed things far better than Thranduil ever had and he wondered if perhaps that was his mother shining through showing herself in their son. 

 

It was a comforting thought. 

 

Closing his eyes Thranduil shifted his weight a moment and allowed himself to fall into the desk chair almost gracelessly- he was tired this whole ordeal was draining and yet he refused to pull himself away. 

 

What good would it do to leave Bard dealing with this, how could he allow this to happen to the man he loved. Watching him fumble blindly through pain and blackouts wondering why he was losing time and why no one would help him. 

 

He could not leave him. 

 

Never. 

 

“You’re aware Smaug resides inside him, Thranduil?” Gandalf’s tone suggested that he knew full well that Thranduil was aware and he mumbled something under his breath that sounded like he was cursing the Valar. 

 

Not that they listened anymore.

 

Or… did they?

 

Thranduil sat bolt upright in his seat his eyes wide for a moment, could they hear him still, could they be reasoned with to help him? 

 

Gandalf noticed his sudden energy and arched a brow questioning the elf, rather than explain himself Thranduil got up from his seat, straightened out his shirt and headed for the door, as he pulled it open he glanced back to Gandalf.

 

“We have to tell him, then we formulate a resolution, yes?” With a resolute nod, he left Gandalf to stand in the office alone with only his thoughts and slight bewilderment as he watched the back of the blond elf retreat.

 

Eventually, the old wizard followed and retook his seat at Thranduil’s side, Bard looked more concerned than before but it was perhaps that was more Thranduil’s news of Legolas that plagued his mind rather than his own predicament, which he still knew little about. 

 

It was only Gandalf settled fully in his seat that Bard gave him any attention and then he could barely look him in the eye. After a few moments of body freezing mortification, Bard finally manages to utter a hello and a small thank you to Gandalf for being such a great editor, though all the edits made far more sense now. 

 

“You always knew how to enhance my story with only a word or two, as though you had been there or were in my head. When writing I really take much notice of anything other than my memories and getting them down onto paper as fast as I could- it seemed so important back then that I write those stories. 

 

Now, I feel like in doing so I have done a grave injustice to those mentioned.” Thranduil raised a hand to interject he had a rather bemused look on his face, though Bard could tell he was mostly trying to be serious. 

 

“Your stories helped me, and they will be helping others too. I feel now that there may have been more of us to have survived the ever-present shifting sands of time. Tauriel is alive as is Legolas and Gandalf, myself and, of course, you. 

 

It brings new hope to my heart that perhaps we did not die out, rather the world became so big that finding our way home was impossible and so now home is wherever we plant our feet when we first awake to the morning sun.” Bard managed a smile upon hearing this, perhaps he was helping those still in hiding. 

 

How was he to know? 

 

As Bard looked up from where his hands rested, fingers entangled with Thranduil’s, he caught a concerned looked shared between Thranduil and the wizard and a renewed anger flourished within him. 

 

Withdrawing his hand Bard moved to sit straighter, Thranduil surged forward and took the Bowman’s hand again his gaze intense refusing to let the other retreat into himself.

 

“You’re angry, I understand, but please, meleth,” Thranduil started-his heart ached to see Bard angry with him, and yet he could not bring himself to utter the words that might convince his Bowman that they were on the same side and that they always would be. Those words that would utterly destroy him. “A great darkness lives inside you, a creature of dread and pain, but it is not something you have created in yourself- you… you could never be the darkness you believe yourself capable of being. The creature that haunts you and drags you from the light is Smaug.” 

 

There was silence between the three of them, even Tauriel seemed to be holding her breath from the other side of the cafe, her movements stilled as he listened with her elven hearing. She heard Bard’s breath quicken. 

 

Panic and confusion collided fiercely inside him- he jerked violently his hands balled into fists after he had wrenched his hand from Thranduil’s… what was this fury he felt, what was this unquenchable anger that seared his veins right into his very soul? 

 

It felt like fire scorching his insides and he gripped helplessly at the shining and smooth surface of the table as he scrambled to his feet.

 

By the time he reached his full height Bard was no longer reachable, and in his place stood a smirking shadow that seemed to suck the light out of the very room, eyes glowing amber light firelight, as though flames licked at the inside of this taunting creature. 

 

_ So untrustworthy of you to reveal me to my host. Just when I had believed you were coming around to my idea of a new world as great as the one you ruled in many millennia ago, Elf.  _ Smaug leaned over the table, his hands resting flat as he leered at Thranduil with those amber eyes pinning him to the spot. 

 

The threat of dragon fire left him fearful but he did not move as Smaug moved back to reveal blackened hand prints burned into the table surface. His attention was on Gandalf now, head tilted to the side as slitted pupils took in the sight of the old wizard in modern clothing.

 

_ Mithrandir, an honour you grace me with your presence, though it was truly unnecessary for you to accompany the elf when we were brokering an agreement well enough without you.  _ His tone taunting though his eyes narrowed when Gandalf remained impassive to his words and only moved back a step as Gandalf rose to his feet. 

 

Tauriel watched from the sidelines pleased that whoever was in the cafe did not seem to notice the smoking table and the strange amber-eyed man making threats… Gandalf was advancing on the drake his words unrecognisable and yet Smaug seemed almost reckless in his bid to remove himself from the vicinity of the wizard. 

 

_ Dragon fire cleanses all _

 

Tauriel looked down at the countertop, the little plant had resumed its whispering and honestly, if she hadn’t had some strange attachment to it it would have been dashed off the wall pot and all by now.  

 

“Shush you, always butting into conversations that you aren’t invited to.” She whispered, though thoroughly unsure as to why she was being so kind to something that unnerved her on the daily. 

 

When she looked back to the scene Thranduil had now gotten to his feet and was moving slowly around the table while Gandalf had Smaug distracted- How it hurt to see her friend plagued by such a creature.

 

Humans often spoke of souls and Tauriel wondered if Bard believed in that kind of thing, he seemed to be the sort that might and how his may have been sullied by such a scourge. The redhead knew that would do all in her power to convince Bard he was still a wonderful man and that harbouring the spirit of a dragon showed testament to his strength than his weakness. 

 

Not every man could survive the sheer amount of power that a dragon such as Smaug contained. That was why dragons were so big, wasn’t it? 

 

_ Your cheap parlour tricks won’t work on me, wizard. You play with fire and I revel in it but which us will leave burned?  _

 

“You fire is nothing more than a match, a paltry flame now, nothing more than heat to light my pipe, Smaug. For now, we are done with this conversation, begone and allow our weary king return!” Gandalf’s words echoed strangely as he spoke, Thranduil was now at his watching with fear and great curiosity, the next thing he knew Gandalf was rushing forward to grab Bard’s now unconscious form before he hit the floor. 

 

Thranduil surged forward and pulled Bard from the wizard’s arms and into his own. He brushed back the brunet’s curls from his damp forehead and whispered his name as though to rouse him. 

 

A moment there was a groan from Bard and his eyes cracked open slowly as though the light too bright, he lifted a shaking hand to his head letting out a huff at the pain that pushed at the inside of his skull.

 

“Man alive, I feel like I drank your entire cellar.” Thranduil felt utter relief when Bard’s voice was his own again and he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to his lips earning a grin from the bowman.

 

When on his feet, which took a little time, he was guided to a seat and Tauriel appeared like a ghost at his side suddenly bearing the gift of hot tea. Instead of spiriting off again she took a seat at his side. 

 

Thranduil looked around the cafe, it was completely empty, the sign on the door showed the establishment as closed- Tauriel must have moved quickly to usher any customers out and shut up shop without him even realising. 

 

“So, Smaug lives in me…” Everyone’s attention was on him, a grim expression on all their faces, Thranduil looked haunted, his eyes seemed empty and yet full of sadness all at once. “What will we do now?” The question hung in the air and the silence was palpable, Bard was sure there was more he wasn’t aware of, something they all knew.

 

“We… don’t know if we can get rid of Smaug without killing you in the process.” 

 

Oh. 


	12. Spite And Malice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heavy thoughts and feelings go awry. Much is said and hearts ache but each sorrow comes with a joy that can override pain for a spell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me all day and I had to read it out loud to my fiancee several times before I was happy with it. 
> 
> Enjoy!

##  Chapter Twelve

 

 

Bard hadn’t spoken for what had seemed like hours, the prolonged pause in the conversation had them all shifting uncomfortably in their seats. They gave him the time, he deserved it. 

 

Thranduil checked his watch it was quite late, Bard looked exhausted across the table from him and so empty-eyed. 

 

Knowing he may not survive purging Smaug from within him left him with an odd sense of calm and he wasn’t sure if he was actually numb or had come to terms with death at a relatively speedy pace.

 

Either way, it didn’t seem healthy but what was healthy about being alive so long because a scaly parasite had taken up residence inside you? 

 

Dying seemed like the easiest option to him, as much as the others may disagree with his decision it just seemed the least effort and in all honesty, he’d had a good run and Bard truly never expected to live this long into the future. 

 

To see the landscape of his world change so drastically to see much die and see so much develope, it mesmerised him and, of course, saddened him. To have had this chance to witness the world move and grow to see the rise and fall of other civilisations… scholars would have given anything to have had the chance and Bard only now believed he had wasted his time. 

 

So leaving it behind, that would be fine, right? 

 

“I think it would be ok to die now.” 

 

There was a loud crash as Thranduil launched himself out of his seat which hit the floor hard bouncing off the wooden floor a few times before falling silent as the blond strode around the table toward Bard, an expression of fury painted on his features, brows knitted together in a frown and his mouth an open snarl as though insulted. 

 

He was hurt, Bard knew that and yet all he could do was look up at him blinking slowly as a man-made from moonlight glowed above him with all his hurt and rage beating through him with no real outlet. 

 

Pride had not held on to the elf which pleased the Bowman but seeing such intense emotions on Thranduil’s face come and go so freely… it left his stomach in knots. 

 

“What in Eru’s name do you think you are saying?!” Thranduil’s voice shook as he tried in vain to keep his emotions in check but soon tears welled up in his eyes and spilled over his cheeks, he made no move to wipe them away and Bard felt his heart ache with regret at his words. 

 

“Thranduil… please,” Tauriel began but he brushed her off his gaze held Bard’s and for a moment the Bowman felt the need to retract his statement but he didn’t, rather he held his ground by not uttering a single word. 

 

“I’m sorry,” He said after a moment, his words startling Thranduil with their softness but the elf’s expression remained fierce. Bard carried on unswayed by Thranduil’s tears no matter how much it pained him to see. “I see no other way, haven’t you already mourned me, wouldn’t it be easier to die and rid the world of Smaug without putting anyone else in danger?”

 

The sound of skin striking hard against skin rang out throughout the empty cafe. 

 

Thranduil struck Bard hard across the face. 

 

Neither man moved even as the angry red handprint bloomed over Bard’s cheek he did not lift his hand to it. 

 

The pain that spiked through him was a welcome change to the numbness he felt but the regret of his words stain his insides with shame hot on its heels and he soon forgot about his throbbing cheek. 

 

Gandalf rose to his feet announcing that he would walk Tauriel home, the redhead made no argument, silently she moved around the cafe picking up her bag and coat and turning off the cash register before exiting the place with the wizard in tow. 

 

Neither Bard nor Thranduil spoke, even when the door clicked shut behind them. 

 

Only when the rain started and it lashed against the windows did either of them move- Bard got to his feet and stepped past Thranduil as he walked towards the large window to watch the rain pelt down outside. 

 

The street was dark and illuminated by a single orange street lamp across the road from the cafe, Bard stared out into the darkness for some time before he spoke, his voice wavering and barely above a whisper. 

 

“I don’t know why I said those things to you,” He made no move to look at Thranduil, he couldn’t conjure the courage to face him, “I was numb for so long and then suddenly this catastrophic mess happens and I panicked.” It was not an apology, one would come Thranduil deserved that, but for now, he had to explain himself 

 

Even if the damage was done he had to at least be honest with the man he loved. Even if he’d hit a point of no return with the elf. 

 

“To finally find something good in my life with people I cared for all those years ago, these past few weeks have been almost a dream, Thran. Every morning I’d wake up thinking I had imagined it all but you’re here, Tauriel… Gandalf… and you found out Legolas is alive and well. 

 

This is more than I could ever imagine.

 

So many things came to mind, about how I wasted my time here doing nothing but wandering and drifting like I was at sea… I thought I could let this all go and for moments at a time, I want to let it all go. 

 

I’m scared but when you’re dead it doesn’t matter, I’ll go wherever my soul is supposed to go at the end of the road and maybe someone I know will be waiting for me at the end of this all. 

 

To leave you like is unfair, I know-”His sentence was cut off as Thranduil turned him roughly to face him pressing a deep and urgent kiss to the Bowman’s lips. When he moved back he gestured for Bard to remain quiet.

 

“It was selfish of me to think I could keep you here by my side- there are no guarantees that any plan will work and I cannot ask you to go through with anything you do not wish to do. If you die Smaug will likely die- but we cannot be sure. 

 

I implore you to truly think this through. If you die he may remain within you and we would lose you to that monster. You have to give me time, give  _ us  _ time to study this. It is asking a lot but everything is uncertain.” Thranduil had never begged before and his skin still prickled with dismay he felt at Bard’s earlier admission. The cold and sharp pain of words slicing through his heart was not so strange to him but he had believed himself ready for most situations after the terribly long life he had lived but it did not seem so now. 

 

Time had softened him. 

 

“Let us not speak of such here any longer. Let me take you home. No, let me take you to my home. Stay with me tonight Bard and let me feel you, let me rest beside you just one night.” The walk to Thranduil’s was silent, both of them consumed by their own thoughts, neither of them pressed into moving any faster than a casual stroll even with the rain soaking them to the skin.

 

Not much seemed to matter of the material world around them but as they neared Thranduil’s small cottage he realised they had walked hand in hand for the duration of the journey, but he did not mention it only he felt a pang of regret when his hand slipped from Bard’s as he moved to unlock his front door. 

 

Inside most of their soaking clothing was removed, towels were found and hot tea was made. The quiet only punctuated with the sound of their breathing and small ‘thank yous’ as things were handed over to one another. 

 

Bard stared at the bottom of his now empty mug, Thranduil was off in another part of the house looking for something suitable for Bard to wear while his clothes were drip drying by the radiator across from him. He sat with a bathrobe draped around his shoulders which he slipped on properly to stop himself from shivering as cold drops of water snaked down his back from his still drying hair. 

 

Raising his hand he touched his fingertips to the spot on his cheek where Thranduil had slapped him, it didn’t feel painful and the redness had probably eased and his skin was its usual colour again. 

 

Everything inside him told him he had deserved it, but there was a dizzying panic that swept over him for seconds at a time when he realised how refreshed he’d felt when the pain raced through him was this Smaug’s doing, were any of his feelings even his over the years? 

 

How much control did Bard have over his own body and mind while Smaug resided within? 

 

The cup slipped from his hands as they began to shake, it thudded onto the plush carpet below it was left forgotten as Bard got to his feet and began to pace the room, he did not notice Thranduil’s return until his hands were stilled by the elf’s and he was pulled from his frantic motions. 

 

“I’m sorry, Thranduil. I did not take your feelings into account, I toyed with your emotions even when I knew how intensely elves could feel things- Letting you go would never be easy and the decision I made… I know it was split second but I genuinely believed it was the right answer.” 

 

Thranduil refused to hold Bard’s gaze as he spoke, his eyes on their hands entwined so tightly and he knew when they moved to part he would be afraid to let go. There were no right answers and Bard’s apology seemed unnecessary now.

 

Who was he to demand Bard keep his life so that he could continue loving the warmth of his skin, the deep hue of his eyes and the softness of his voice of a morning? 

 

All those things he had already remembered from the past, he could continue to keep them in his memory should Bard truly pass away- his heart clenched at the very thought and his grip tightened on Bard’s hands.

 

He didn’t want to let him go.

 

“I cannot keep you here if it is against your will. If the only way for Smaug to truly be destroyed is for you to die… no one would have the right to convince you to live on.” Thranduil tried to hide the bitterness in his voice tried to mask the hurt. He tried to dredge up memories of the past, times he would have appeared indifferent but it seemed so long ago that he had to be that cold and seemingly uncaring king he had no idea who that man was. 

 

So now he only felt as though he saddled Bard with his feelings as well as the Bowman having to deal with his own. 

 

“I’m scared, Thran. How much of myself is left and how much of my actions and emotions have been influenced by him?” How did his feelings for Thranduil stand up to all of this, was this still him? 

 

He had cared deeply for the elf all those years ago, how could he be sure this was not Smaug’s sway over him now? A plan set in motion by the dread beast himself to secure power in order to raise up and gain control of the world? 

 

Is that what Smaug even wanted? 

 

“We should rest, it has been a long day.” Bard looked exhausted and Thranduil had to urge him up the stairs to a modest bedroom clearly set up as the master bedroom. A far cry from the rooms Thranduil had held as a king, but just as comfortable. 

 

“I can’t… What if I sleep and he is there.  Urgh, does that sound ridiculous?” Bard was sat on the edge of the bed the bathrobe slipping off his shoulders as the tie loosened from around his waist. 

 

Thranduil sat next to him, his hand sliding over Bard’s thigh giving it a reassuring squeeze as he tried to put into words something that sounded relatively positive. Everything in his mind was screaming for Bard to stay to remain with him and that death was not the answer that dying was never the answer and that Smaug was nothing, a speck in the universe and he would personally drag the dragon’s spirit from Bard’s body and tear it apart with his bare hands if he could. 

 

Taking a cleansing breath from his anger he turned to look at his exhausted Bowman. 

 

“You have not changed all that much, meleth. We were close all those years ago, were we not, I would say you are still that man, you can trust me on this, yes?” Thranduil had often looked back fondly on the memories of Bard as he became king wide-eyed and so innocent, he was young to Thranduil and so alive, he had loved him for a thousand years and he would love him for a thousand more. “I do not think Smaug can control your emotions, but I do think you have held back on feeling anything properly for all this time because you were afraid to feel the loss of those you cared for.” Thranduil’s voice was soft with a gravelly edge from being so tired, he stroked Bard’s thigh though it seemed more a comfort for himself,  to remind himself that Bard was still there and alive under his touch. 

 

Thranduil moved from Bard’s side and walked around the bed all the while shedding what clothing he had on tossing it into a washing hamper, he all but collapsed into bed, his gaze moved to Bard he seemed hesitant to remove the robe but eventually, it was disposed of and Bard slipped under the covers.

 

For a long moment, they both lay, breaths caught in their throats before Thranduil came to his senses and turned on his side pulling Bard to him. Bard’s skin was just as smooth as he imaged it would be and just as warm. 

 

“Bard, I want to marry you.” The Bowman, who up until then had had his eyes closed, jerked back for a split second his eyes now wide open in surprise. 

 

“Thran… where did that come from?” 

 

“When all is said and done, Bard, I love you. I will until the day I die, I know this even if I cannot convince you of this I know my feelings are true. If I am to lose you let me at least have something to prove that you were mine and I was yours?” Thranduil hadn’t felt this nervous in years, it was a shoddy proposal and yet he believed Bard appreciated it this way more than if he had done anything remotely traditional. 

 

“Let’s get married. Even if my time with you is short, it is time well spent. I thought so many times of this moment throughout the years and never did I imagine it would be proposed like this. 

 

It is fitting that we marry in the most frantic of times.” They both smile at each other in the darkness, there was a renewed joy in them once again, they had found one another and were finally side by side as they had always hoped they could be. 

 

Bard lifted a hand and ran it through Thranduil’s hair as he leaned in to kiss him, his Thranduil, his love… soon to be his husband. How giddy could one man become at the thought of marrying the man he had secretly admired for years? 

 

Thranduil had clearly been thinking the same and he was now pressed tightly against him, the elf’s hands sliding down Bard’s back his hands smoothing over his skin as though a creature to be revered. 

 

“By the Valar, having you so close like this, I had not imaged ever having this chance.” 

 

“Hopefully you will have more times like this to enjoy…”

 

At that Thranduil rolled Bard on to his back with his arms above his head, hands held down expertly and with ease by the blond who now knelt above him knees planted at either side of Bard’s hips. 

 

“Speak not of the future, let us only live in the moment for now.” As he spoke his free hand slid up Bard’s side and over his shoulder until his fingers were tangled in the brunet curls after a soft moment where Thranduil took in the sight of his Bowman lying prone just for him, he yanked his head back by his hair and grinned as Bard moaned in appreciation. 

 

“Oh, I see now that this is how you’d like to play this.” Thranduil’s voice was silky with pleasure as he toyed with the Bowman, a creature of immense power and sensuality and Bard was enthralled by him. 

 

Bard had to take a moment to reacquaint himself with his voice because it sure as Hell died in his throat at the sound of the purr in Thranduil’s voice as he spoke. 

 

“Are you going to just sit there looking at me?” Bard’s voice was rough and he rolled his hips hoping to coax Thranduil into continuing whatever it was he had in mind when he had pinned the Bowman to the bed. 

 

“Oh, but I do so love seeing you so open and honest with your desires…” 

 

Bard could only laugh as he tried to wriggle from the blond’s grip, he wanted payback but it seemed Thranduil was still stronger than he was and he only resulted in causing friction between the both of them which gifted Bard with some lovely moans from Thranduil. 

 

“Don’t play dirty, Bowman, you cannot win this.” 

 

“Try me.” 

 

Their fears and worried melted away and for one night they revelled in the company of one another, Smaug was but a distant memory for them as they rekindled the fire between them.


	13. Showdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bard confronts Smaug and sanity seems to tilt off its axis leaving the Bowman grasping for some semblance of normality. 
> 
> Thranduil again faces the serpent and no one leaves unscathed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an intense chapter and I am kind of proud of it.

##  Chapter Thirteen

 

When Bard woke it was still dark. 

 

He had, perhaps, been asleep for an hour or two. 

 

Thranduil was still dead to the world beside him, his blond hair splayed out over the pillow like rays of sunlight, he looked peaceful and unaffected by the previous day's events. 

 

Rolling over, Bard scanned the room for the time, finding it too dark he slipped out of bed and grabbed the bathrobe he’d worn the night before and threw it on as he padded around the house.

 

Making his way downstairs he fumbled around looking for a light switch, any light switch, eventually, he found himself in the kitchen and the room flooded with yellow light as he inched his hand along the wall finally finding a light switch.

 

The clock on the wall read 3am.

 

Great. 

 

Weariness had sunk into his bones and Bard was sure that no amount of sleep could shake it off. 

 

Rather than disturbing Thranduil by going back up to bed, the Bowman familiarised himself with the kitchen and made himself tea. The elf’s home exuded warmth and comfort, a far cry from Bard’s apartment that looked like he had abandoned it years ago. 

 

Shuffling to the kitchen table Bard installed himself in a chair to drink his tea in the quiet of the early morning, the rain now only gently tapped against the windows, the noise a comfort to him the Bowman as he considered Thranduil’s proposal. 

 

He was dozing off, his chin resting on his palm when he heard a growling breath from within the room, startled by the sudden noise Bard sat up quickly and looked around the brightly lit kitchen so sure the noise had been right behind him. 

 

Rubbing his eyes Bard speculated that, perhaps, he had been hearing things or had even just nodded off and had been dreaming for a moment. Grabbing his empty mug he pulled himself up from his seat and moved toward the sink, as he did so the noise came again, this time fainter but definitely there. 

 

This was not what he needed right now, real or no he could not handle strange noises haunting him throughout his waking life. Gripping the edge of the counter Bard took a deep breath, a frown creasing his forehead as he tried to rationalise the sound.

“Just remember you’re tired, Bard mate, you’ve had a long day. It is all in your head.”

 

A taunting laugh followed his words his own voice and yet it was not? 

 

_ Oh, but bow man you are entirely right, it is all in your head. From your head down your spine, in your lungsss and your heart. Every inch of you I am there too.  _

 

Never had he felt his blood run cold the way it did when he heard that guttural growling voice come from his own being, he clapped a hand over his mouth his wide-eyed reflection staring back at him from the window, skin pale but his eyes… molten gold, a roiling fire of orange and the pupils of a snake.

 

The light flickered and went out and only the glowing firelight eyes of Smaug could be seen in the window.

 

A fearful gasp escaped Bard’s lips as his tongue ran over the dagger-sharp teeth that now filled his mouth, his tongue bloody now as he spoke next.

 

“Begone, calamity. You were not called for, have you not had me suffer enough, you wretch?” Oh, horror of horrors when he smiled that sharp-toothed grin as Smaug taunted him through his own reflection. 

 

_ A charming notion that you believe you can call for me when you have no power. Do not misunderstand your worth, you are an ant inhabited by the spirit of a lion. There is only so much you can do before I burn through your bones and muscle until you are nought but ash and I must find a new host.  _

 

_ Bow man, the harder you struggle the more your energy leeches and I grow stronger.  _

 

_ I am the stars, the fire of the sun and you are nothing.  _

 

Again, Bard ran his tongue over the razors that were his teeth and his heart pounded at Smaug’s words- this was a way out, surely Thranduil’s heart would be broken but it was a way to spare the world the wrath of this serpent once again. 

 

As he moved to speak again the lights flickered on and Thranduil stood in the doorway, never had a man looked so tormented by the anguish and pain of another soul. 

 

Bard spat into the kitchen sink the blood from his tongue sliding into the drain, his mind in tatters and as he turned to face Thranduil he saw fear at the sight of him, glancing back at the window his reflection revealed his eyes still glowing, two bright stars in the dark.

 

“Bard… is that you?” 

 

He wasn’t sure. Was he Bard or was this still Smaug, how could he be sure that when he spoke his words were not mangled by millennia of hatred and gold lust? 

 

_ I am afraid your bow man is elsewhere.  _  Smaug moved quickly across the room the echo of unseen claws on the tiled floor, the temperature elevated rapidly around them and Thranduil took several steps back hoping in vain to keep the distance between him and the creature that now stalked him from the kitchen and into the hallway. 

 

“You will not bring harm to your vessel, I heard those words that you spoke with a tongue that does not belong to you. You would not burn through that man, he holds a strength within him you could never hope to gain. 

 

Millenia should pass from this day and still your spine would be glass- dragon fire is nothing when the body of a man stands in your way. You push him and test him and he does not break.

 

How long do you think you have left, serpent?” The blond sneered, though when his back met with the front door Smaug looked more victorious then Thranduil felt. With an infuriating swagger, the drake approached, the kitchen light illuminating his figure from behind and the blond hid a shudder as he watched blood ooze from his lips and down his chin. 

 

_ Thisss human mouth is no match for the jawsss of a dragon- he is weak, elf lord. He is weak and he reveals your weakness to all under the sun.  _

 

_ His heart trips and sputters within me, strength is not on his side, nor is it on yours. I have given you a most generous offer and time and time again you disregard my wordsss and yet I see in your eyes you yearn to return to a green and peaceful time.  _

 

_ Again, I offer this to you. All can be as it was you merely need to submit to my will.  _

 

_...and it will be done.  _

 

An offer had been laid out before him and how many times had he had to refrain from reaching out and taking that he so dearly wished to have returned to him. 

 

Would he have his wife and son? 

 

Could he live in a green and vibrant forest knowing all that he sacrificed, could he withstand the guilt of leaving behind the man he loved to endure a fate worse than death? 

 

When he looked back to Smaug the infuriation grin had returned and Thranduil wanted nothing more than to smack the smugness off his face, he had his answer. 

 

“I would rather experience my heart been torn from my chest and devoured before my very eyes than accept an offer from an insidious plague on mankind such as you.” His words a bitten off snarl and when Smaug howled with displeasure Thranduil felt such a rush of pleasure he near forgot that the creature was contained by someone precious to him. 

 

Pushing Smaug hard he managed to take the dragon off guard and he watched as he staggered back before steadying himself with the help of the door frame to the kitchen. 

 

_ You know not which you refuse, elf.  _ Smaug surged forward, a burning hand griping Thranduil’s jaw forcing him to look into the molten eyes he had tried to avoid throughout their confrontation. His lips inches from Thanduil’s and the elf struggled to pull away as Smaug pressed a deep and vicious kiss to his lips, red smearing over Thranduil’s face and he cried out as he felt the hot and bloody tongue in his own mouth.

 

He would not allow this serpent to violate him. 

 

When Smaug stepped back Thranduil spat the blood from his mouth on to the drake’s face. 

 

“You fail to understand just how I truly  _ loathe _ to repeat myself, beast,” Thranduil began, malice dripping from his every word as he raises a hand to Smaug’s throat his fingers itching to crush the windpipe below, but the fluttering vein pulsing beneath his fingers urged him to reconsider his actions solely based on the soft familiar skin that reminded him of the man that housed this vile spirit. “I have felled dragons bigger than you, and I can do so again. Now begone, you were not called for nor are you needed. Come back to me when you have an offer worthy of my time.” The words were spat out as a rage built within the elf, he released his grip and Smaug was gone, in place was a shaking and wild-eyed Bard clinging to Thranduil’s shirt his words incoherent as he gasped for air. 

 

The darkness he had been ripped from receded quickly and Bard jolted back to consciousness his mouth filled with the coppery taste of his own and his throat felt as though a vice had been crushing his airways- his blinked several times before he could make out Thranduil’s concerned face looking down at him, though his sight seemed blurred at the edges he could not help but notice that the elf was bloody and that the trembling was not Bard but the blond. 

 

Finding his feet, Bard stands to his full height he lifts a hand to Thranduil’s blood smeared lips and brushes the now almost dried blood from them. He jerks his hand back when the elf flinches, he can’t help but feel hurt though Thranduil has every right to behave the way he does. 

 

“I-I’m sorry, it is hard to separate you from Smaug… when moments ago I was at war with him.” The blond’s voice hoarse his tone that of a broken man fighting heartache, he closed his eyes regretting his words as Bard put space between them without another word, he turned from the elf and made his way to the front room to collect his now dry clothes. 

 

“I should go… It was a mistake to come here. You shouldn’t have been drawn into this. Don’t worry, Thran. I have a way out, a way to rid Smaug of this place.” HIs voice muffled as he pulled his t shirt over his head. 

 

He grabbed his boots and jeans and moved to the sofa to finish dressing, Thranduil followed him at a loss on what to say, a distance had fallen between them, a great yawning chasm that seemed nigh uncrossable. 

 

“You don’t have to do this on your own, I want to help. Tauriel and Gandalf are here to help you also. Please, Bard.” 

 

“I can’t see you shaken like that again if you want to help stay away from me.” Bard’s words came out harsh but the only way he could keep Thranduil away from him was to push him away and hurt him. 

 

Perhaps, it was a mistake to do this but he could see no other way to keep the blond safe from Smaug. He replayed the scene of Thranduil flinching away from him constantly in his mind as he dressed and pushed passed Thranduil to leave. 

 

“There is nothing you can say to change my mind. The love I felt for you… it was probably just Smaug’s need for power. There may not be anything between us after all.” The Bowman did not wait for Thranduil’s reaction as he pulled open the front door and stepped out into the rain. 

 

He was a coward. 

 

“NO. I refuse to accept your words as the truth. You think me dense enough that I would believe your lies, your heartaches I could see it in your eyes as you spoke. Do not treat me as a fool, and I might not smack you where you stand.” Thranduil strode out into the rain and dragged Bard back inside, he slammed the door behind them once they were both stood in the hallway again. 

 

“You cannot do this on your own, and I would surely die before I allow you to even form the thought to try!” Bard was not sure he enjoyed being berated by the elf but… he had brought this upon himself by acting the idiot in the first place. 

 

“Do not forget that you have agreed to marry me, you must learn to accept that I will offer my opinion and that our discussions about keeping you alive, I am always right!” 

 

“Ah, yes, sir.” The response was automatic, and Bard felt no shame in backing down with the speed that he did. He smiled at his fierce and beautiful elf, even after such a traumatic event Thranduil was strong and sure in his words.

 

“I love you, Bard. We are  _ not _ going down without a fight.” 

 

“I don’t think I could stop you.” 

 


End file.
